Tuff 'Nuff
by erf10722
Summary: Dally didn't die by being shot in the head. He did loose all of his memories though. Should the gang let him keep his innocence and learn to love this new, softer Dally? Or should they break to him the harsh truth...could it ruin him forever if they do?
1. Chapter 1

**This is gonna be about Dally. He's my favorite character, and I had a really good idea for him. For this story, I'm not gonna write another chapter****_ UNTIL I GET AT LEAST 5 REVIEWS. _**** I hope you like it!**

**I do not own the Outsiders.**

* * *

**Dally POV**

Johnny was dead. Emotion swelled in my throat. I had seen him die. I squeezed the tears out of my eyes when I closed my eyes. I hurriedly wiped them away. I didn't need some Soc spreading rumors that Dallas Winston isn't tough.

I walked into the store, and pointed the gun at the clerks head. "Give me the money." My voice was low and dangerous, and I revelled in the power that I felt with the gun. If this thing were loaded, I could kill this guy in a second.

I could kill anyone. Hell, it's got to be better than life. I could even kill myself. But no...it wasn't loaded. Than a grin spread over my lips, I grabbed what money the clerk had procured and ran to the pay phone outside.

I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice as I explained to Darry my new revelation.

I made sure the clerk called the cops, then started sprinting towards the east side of town.

I had never run faster. I had not cheated death like Pony's story characters always did, I would cheat life.

I grinned widely and pushed on running through the exhaustion I felt. The sound of sirens egged me on.

I saw 5 figures running towards me. They stopped as the cops surrounded me, pulling out their guns. I grinned. I pulled out my own gun.

There is nothing more dangerous than a man who has nothing to lose. If that gun had been loaded, I would have shot all of them dead before one bullet reached me. I hated those men, those people who had made my life a living hell.

But no more. If there was hell in heaven and earth, at least I could be with Johnny.

I felt something hit me in the back of the head, then I felt as though my skull were splitting open. Thn the ground rushed up towards me, and I welcomed death.

* * *

_**Soda POV**_

we all waited on the edge of our seats to see how Dally was. Losing Johnny had been enough, but none of us could bare to lose another in the same 24 hours.

I took it as a bad sign that the surgeon came out only an hour later. His face was impossible to read, even for me, and I could understand anyone.

"Darrel Curtis?" The entire gang walked, as though in a trance, towards the surgeon.

"Which one of you is Darrel Curtis?" Darry raised his hand like a school boy.

"Darrel, I'm happy to say that Dallas Winston is fine...er, well I'm not happy, but I'm happy for you..." The doctor grinned at his own joke. The rest of us were still stony faced.

"How?" Darry asked, sounding about 12 year old.

"Come again?"

"How the hell did he survive? He was shot in the back of the head! Hell, I thought he was dead before he reached the hospital."

"Naw. He's a fighter. Listen, do you mind if I publish this case? It could help Dallas in court if I did..." Darry just nodded. The surgeon was getting on his nerves.

"Fine, fine. Can we see him?"

"Ah. Well, I forgot to deliver the bad news. Dallas wont-wont be the same. The bullet hit him just hard enough to damage his brain permanently, but not enough to kill him. It's an unbelievable case, maybe even unique..."

"He's gonna be crazy, is that what your trying to tell us?!" The entire gang looked devastated. Dally would kill us if we ever said it outloud, but we all really loved the kid. That's what he was. A kid. He was only a few months older than me, and I will always be a kid.

"But after therapy, he is likely to remember. You can visit him when he wakes." the doctor finished, wincing at our glares. He turned heal and ran, muttering something about hating being a doctor.

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

I woke to a screaming pain in my head. It hurt more than...I had no experiences to compare it to. That scared me. Had I never felt pain before? Somehow I knew what english was. I knew what the words I was saying meant, but I had no memories.

Mom. Dad. I knew what these words meant. Why did I not remember them? Did I have a mom and dad? Did everyone? I wondered what my dad looked like. Did he look like me?

What did I look like? What do I like? And scariest of all, WHAT'S MY NAME!

I heard a mumbling of voices. How did I know they were voices?

I heard someone say, "Don't worry boys, he's just about to wake." I wondered who they were talking about. I opened my mouth to ask, but all that came out was a groan.

There were more mutterings, but this time they sounded excited. Excited? I moaned again, just to make sure. More voices. My heart leapt.

I could barely manage it, but I was able to mumble, "Mom?" The voices stopped abruptly.

"What was that Dal?" I didn't know what a "Dal" was.

"Dad?" The voice sounded male to me. I marveled at how I could tell that. "Why can't I see?"

"Dal, your eyes are closed."

"Oh." I paused for a second while I found the muscles to open them. I slowly and painstakingly let them slide open. I frowned at the person from where the voice was coming.

"You aren't my Dad. Or my Mom. You're too young and you're a man." Although my voice had been raspy when I first woke up, it was gaining confidence.

"Uh, yeah Dally. It's me. Darry." I giggled. I decided that I liked Darry. The people gathered around Darry muttered distressedly. I wondered if I'd caused that, but I dismissed the possibility. All I had done was laugh.

"Uh, Dallas, what's so funny?" Darry's voice was calm and soothing.

"Our names rhyme!" I told him, a grin spreading across my face. The boys obviously didn't get the joke, but I kept chuckling. They looked scared. Were they scared of me?

"Where's my mom and Dad?" No one spoke. I saw one of them wheel around into the hall and I heard his shouting for a doctor.

"Are you guys my brothers? Do I look like you? You're too young to be my dad. Darry, where's my dad?"

"Dally-"

But I interrupted him "Is that my name? Is my name 'Dally?' Is that what a Dal is?" I smiled, proud of myself for figuring it out.

"Dally-" But Darry was disturbed by the boy coming back, dragging a reluctant nurse behind him.

"See? He's not right!" The nurse glared at me. I felt tears come to my eyes. Why did she hate me? I was so confused! The nurses face cleared when she saw the tear, and I smiled at her, deciding that she was a nice person.

"Do you know your name honey?"

I smiled, glad to show off my knowledge. "Dally. I'm also called Dal. And that's Darry. Our names rhyme!" The nurse grinned distractedly at me. Darry muttered something to her, and she asked another question.

"How old are you Dally?"

"How old are you?" I think she thought I was being sassy. She bristled, but when she realized I was serious, she answered.

"47. How old are you?"

I thought for a moment, trying to come up with a smart answer. "Am I older or younger than you?"

"Younger."

"Am I 46?" The nurse shook her head. "45? 44? 43?"

"Honey, your a lot younger than me."

"20?"

"Younger." I grinned. I liked this game. And this lady. She had a nice smile.

"19? 18? 17? 16-"

"Honey, your 17."

"Ok."

"Do you remember _anything_?" I creased my eyebrows. What was she talking about?

"Yeah! You're 47, his names Darry, and that boy," I pointed at the boy who had run to get the nurse. "That boy can scream real loud."

A golden haired boy laughed at that, and went over to me to ruffle my hair. Darry gasped when I smiled up at the boy.

"You seem nice. What's your name?" The boy smiled disbelievingly.

"My names Sodapop. I'm Darry's brother." I smiled at his name.

"So-da." I said, liking the way the name rolled off my tongue. "Do I have a brother?"

"Uh." For some reason, when I asked this there was a tense silence.

"No. You never had a brother. But, We're all really good friends and we're all sort of like brothers. But one of us in particular was like your brother."

I cocked my head to the side, and I saw a flash of yellow out of the corner of my eye. Distracted, I grabbed it, then yelped, realizing it was my hair. Soda started to laugh, and even Darry (who looks kinda serious) smiled a little.

"Why is my hair so long. And why isn't it all shiny like yours?"

"Uh. You don't like to wear grease in your hair and we do." I patted my hair, liking the silky feeling of the blonde strands. I nodded.

"I like my hair. I also like his hair." I pointed to an auburn haired boy who looked terrified. I smiled encouragingly at him.

"It's ok. I'm not gonna hurt you. What's your name?" When the boy looked unlikely to answer, Soda pop hurriedly stepped in.

"That's Pony. He's Darry's and my brother." I beckoned for Soda to come nearer. He did, looking confused and slightly bemused.

"Why is he so sad?" I whispered. I think Darry hear, because he shook his head at Soda. Soda seemed to choose his words carefully.

"Well, we just lost a friend. And one of our friends is different now." I cocked my head to the side again, going cross eyed looking at the blond hair.

"What was your friends name?"

"Uh. Johnny."

"That's a pretty name. Is he our brother too?" Soda nodded, unable to talk for some reason.

"Yeah. He was." He managed finally. "He-he's dead now." Soda gulped. I reached out my hand to his hand, which lay limply on the bed. I gave it a squeeze, and he looked startled by this show of affection.

"Poor Johnny." I said. Soda nodded, and I saw tears in his eyes. I felt a strange sensation and tears started streaming down my face. They tickled and left dry, tight skin behind in the tracks.

"Dally, what's wrong? Do you remember Johnny?" Soda looked half hopeful, half anxious.

"No." I sniffled, wiping my tears on my hand. "I just don't want to see you guys sad."


	2. Chapter 2

**I love this story! I wrote this the second I finished with the first chapter, but I have to wait for 5 reviews:(**

**BTW: someone PLEASE tell me what "oc" means. I don't know if its good or bad! ugh!**

**I do not own.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_(come to except it)

"Hey Pony?" Pony was staying with me tonight. One of my brothers always stayed over night to protect me. They treated me differently then they treated each other, like I was fragile or something. I didn't think I liked it.

"Uh. Yeah Dal?" Pony was shy around me. I had seen him with Soda and he sure could talk up a storm. I liked hearing him talk. He was fragile, treated kinda like me. But he had see tough times and I hadn't.

"Can you tell me about Johnny? I want to...I want to know him. Even if I can't remember him."

"Uh. Sure Dal. Let's see..Uh, Johnny was my best friend. You loved him more than anything else. You thought that no one else understood you except Johnny. I don't think you ever liked me. Or any of us. You wouldn't show...Anyway, I remember the time that Johnny got jumped. That's the only time I ever saw you show any emotion. You were practically hysterical. Darry punched you to knock you out. He was real sorry about it afterwards."

I laughed, and he gave me a strange look. "Why would I be sad that Johnny jumped? Unless he jumped off of something really high and had an accident." I felt my eyes go wide, and tears brimmed in the corners of my eyes. "Is that what happened? Did Johnny get hurt when he jumped? Is that how he died?"

Tears spilled out of my eyes and I began to sob, envisioning a kid screaming as he hit his head on the asphalt of a playground. I don't know where I got these images, but I seemed to remember all the little useless stuff.

Pony walked over to me. He sat next to me on the bed as I cried. He began speaking in an almost nonsensical voice. "When Johnny was here, we used to look at stars together. We started when I was nine and he was eleven. I asked him what he thought stars were, and he said stars were like our sun, only really _really _far away. And that got me thinkin'. How do we know that there isn't a star out there just like our sun? And an earth out there just like our earth. 'Cept maybe that earth doesn't suck. Maybe it's peaceful and everyone has a mom and a dad and two siblings like Darry and Soda."

I had stopped crying but I was still sniffling.

"But then I thought about all the books I've read where someone tries to make a perfect society. And then I'm grateful that I live on this earth where everyone is different and everyone has a different story to tell. Because maybe theres another person, just like me, on that planet that just wants to have what I have."

"The grass is always greener." I mumbled, wondering what the words meant. I fell asleep to Pony's soft words and images of the other planet, just like ours.

* * *

_**Darry POV**_

I'm surprised at how ok Pony is with the whole situation. Hell, I'm surprised how ok I am. I wonder if Johnny would be angry at us if he knew we weren't too sad.

Don't get me wrong, we all missed him. Everyone of us loved the kid. But I think we kinda have him. Dally acts more and more like Johnny everyday. Him and Pony are becoming close, and it doesn't bother me because I think Pony could honestly hurt Dally more than Dal could hurt him.

Everyday Dal learned something new. He was never frustrated or angry anymore. I felt bad for thinking it, but I liked Dal better this way. At least he didn't know about Johnny.

He was given a new chance. He could go to school, do well in it, live a normal life and not be know as "Dallas Winston- dirty hood."

I just wanted to keep him as innocent as possible. I loved this Dally. I looked forward to talking with him after my shift and I loved seeing the wonder on his face when he learned something so simple.

I could astound him with anything. I smiled broadly as I walked through the hospital doors for the last time, to bring Dally home.

He couldn't very well live at Buck's or in the lot anymore- he had the mental capacity of a two year old. He wasn't stupid, just ignorant. The doctor assured us that he would learn just as fast as a real kid would.

Dal was standing, grinning broadly when I entered the hospital room. He looked nervous and excited as he bounced up and down, comically tall for how he was acting.

I laughed and flung my arm around him. "Ready to go home?" I asked and he nodded eagerly.

"Ok. Let's go. My car is the blue pick-up truck." He nodded, then hesitated. I smiled reassuringly at him. I thinks sometimes he worries that he's being annoying when he asks questions. "Go ahead Dally." I said patiently.

"Darry," He always says my name slowly like he wants to savor it. He does the same with Soda. "What's a pick-up truck?"

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

As we drove in the pick-up truck, I looked out the window. I had only ever looked at the hospital parking lot, and I was amazed by the view.

This city-my city-was unorganized and laid out in a sprawling expanse that seemed to never end. Ever couple of minutes I would ask Darry to slow down as I looked in depth at something I had never looked at before.

I don't think Darry minded. He was a good brother. So were Soda and Pony. I hadn't really met Steve and Two-Bit, but I'm positive they'll be equally good.

Darry laughs around me. I've seen Pony and Soda give him strange looks when he does. I asked Soda about it once and he told me that since their mom and dad had died, Darry didn't laugh much. This made me sad. He looks much younger when he laughs.

I gasped out loud when I saw an arrow in the sky. "Darry, what's that arrow pointing at?"

He gave me a chuckle when he spotted what I was pointing at. "Those are geese Dal. They go down south when it's cold up north and they go north when it's warm over there."

"I think I'm gonna do that when I'm grown up. I don't like the cold." It was starting to chill in Tulsa, although they hadn't seen the worst of the winter yet.

Darry gave Dally a strange look. "Dally, you _are _grown up. Your almost 18. When you are, you'll become an adult."

I gasped. "Darry, how old are you then?"

"20."

"But your not grown-up yet!"

"What do ya mean Dal? Of course I am!"

"No. You laugh and you play games with me."

"Grown-ups can do those things to."

I shook my head, trying to be patient with Darry like he always was to me. "It's not the same." He cracked-up at my tone, which one would use if explaining 1+1=2.

Then something caught my eye. A kid, no older than I was with greased, shoulder length hair, was walking, hands in his pockets next to a car.

The car was full of kids who were yelling at the greaser. I passed it off for a minute, figuring it they were yelling they must be friends. Then I heard the greaser yell, "Shut up!" and I realized that he didn't like whatever they were saying to him.

"Darry! We _have _to help that poor kid!" Darry gave me a strange look, but he pulled up next to the Socs car anyway, which had slowed to the boys walking pace.

"Bob!" Darry shouted at the man driving the car. "Knock it off! What'd the kid do to you huh?"

"Darrel, if you want a fight, I'll give you one, but if you don't want your ass beat, I suggest you drive on."

"Hey!" I shouted in indignation. I had never shouted before, and I shrank away from my own voice, whimpering slightly.

"Thought you'd be dead by now Winston. Too bad you aren't. Would have got rid of some of our problem." I felt tears sting behind my eyes. I let them loose, not knowing that it wasn't a tough thing to do.

The Socs began pretending to cry and laughing. They called me "greaser." Somehow I didn't mid when Soda or Darry called me this, but when the Soc called me greaser, I began to cry harder.

Darry pulled away from the howls of laughter and mock crying. I couldn't stop the choking sounds that were emitting from my throat. I hardly noticed when we arrived at the Curtis' house.

Darry opened my door for me and help me out of the car. I was crying so hard I couldn't even see straight. "Why were they so mean?" I sobbed into Darry's shoulder as he hugged he a little too roughly.

"I'm sorry Dally. People can be really mean sometimes. You're never gonna get hurt as long as one of us is with you.

* * *

_**Darry's POV**_

"You promise?" Dally asked innocently, sniffling.

I looked down at his wide, innocent blue eyes. The ice had completely melted and the rare fire had been extinguished. Now I knew what power could fuel both fire and ice-memories.

I had a sick feeling in my stomach. How could I promise this kid anything? But I gritted my teeth and smiled at him widely. "Would I lie to you?" God I hoped I wouldn't have to lie to him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok...I think I'm changing my review rule to four. Some reviews pointed out that the Outsiders isn't ****_that _****popular, so 4 is good. Plus, I'm getting 4 on average anyway. Hope you like!**

**I do not own The Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Pony POV**_

I watched as Darry heaved Dally into the house, Dally sobbing into his shoulder. Darry looked down at him with such kindness, for once I saw him as a person, not superman.

We had to keep Dally innocent. We could re-do his childhood, but from the words that Dally was screaming hysterically, I knew that only a few minutes out of the hospital had introduced Dally to some Socs.

I used to be the innocent one, but I've seen too much now. I almost envy Dally for being able to forget, but I would never want to forget my precious memories of Johnny. If I forgot, his letter would have no meaning.

Outside, Darry was speaking soothingly to Dally and Dally was starting to calm down. I smiled. I had always been scared of Dallas Winston. Now I can't remember why.

_**Dally POV**_

Darry walked me into the house really nicely. I wasn't sad anymore. Nobody was ever going to hurt me ever again. My brothers would make sure of it.

"Where's your mom and dad Darry? Can I meet them? Are they ok with me staying?" Darry wouldn't meet my eyes for a minute as he fiddled with the doorknob. The door swung open, but he didn't walk in.

"Dally, my parents-they aren't with us anymore." I widened my eyes and Darry swallowed and looked away again.

"What about Steve? And Two-Bit? And what about Johnny? Darry, where are _my _parents?" Darr shook his head, then plastered a smile onto his face.

"Here, I'll give you the grand tour." I frowned, noticing that Darry had avoided my question, but maybe he was just really eager to show me his house.

Pony was inside and he grinned broadly at me. I went over to him and gave him a hug. I loved Pony. Although technically both he and Soda were younger than I, Pony was the one who I could treat like a little brother, even if he did know more than me.

"Hey Dal! He superman!" I looked around wildly. Superman? Why was superman here? Darry laughed from behind me.

"I'm superman Dally." I widened my eyes in awe. Darry and Pony laughed again. I wondered if they were laughing at me. "It's just a nickname Dal. They call me superman sometimes."

"Oh. Ok superman." The words sounded awkward emitting from my mouth and Pony laughed, flinging his arm around my shoulders.

"Here, I'll show you your new room." Pony showed me upstairs, while Darry started making lunch. I heard the clattering of pans and smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen.

Pony led me to a small cramped room that had a small bed in it. It looked cozy, and somehow I knew that it was the nicest place I had ever slept. "Thanks Pony. Where do you sleep?"

Pony led me across the hall to a bigger room with a bigger bed. "Soda and I share a room."

"You don't have to do that Pony. I could sleep on the couch or something." He smiled, lines appearing around his gray eyes.

"Soda and I have always shared a room. Well, ever since mom and Dad..." Then I remembered that his parents were dead.

We walked back into my room in silence and I sat down on the bed, wringing my hands. "Pony, what happened to your parents? What about the rest of the gang?"

Pony hesitated, but I could tell he couldn't say no to me. He sat down beside me and leaned his face into my shoulder.

I was silent for a moment, completely comfortable with his show of affection as well as the dead quiet of the room.

Then I felt something wet land on my arm. I looked down at Pony alarmed to see he was crying. His gray eyes would magnify for a second as the tears build, and then the tears would fall in pearly orbs. It was pretty cool to watch, but I knew that tears meant sadness, because I cried only when I was sad.

I brushed his tear away, and he smiled up at me. "Sorry Dally. I just...I can't really talk about them. Or Johnny-" His voice broke and his barely contained anguish broke. He started shaking.

All I could really do was say "Shhh. You're ok." To him as I patted his hair. Even though I wanted to break down and cry also, I felt like I shouldn't.

That's when I learned how to be strong for someone else, and I felt a little piece of my innocence slip away.

* * *

That night I slept deeply. My room was warm and comforting. Darry had bought me clothes and I had folded them neatly and put them away in my drawers. I decided that my room was gonna be neat. Pony and Soda's room wasn't, and I didn't like it.

I was woken up at about five in the morning by someone bouncing on my bed. I think Pony was trying not to wake me up, but he landed on my leg and I groaned.

"Sorry Dally!" He whispered. I chuckled, suddenly fully awake.

"Hey Pony." I said, stretching. Pony lay carefully next to me and was quiet, probably trying to let me get to sleep again.

"Well, I'm awake now Pony. What is it?" Pony laughed slightly but not as though he found me funny, more in a distracted kind of way.

"I want you to see something. Will you come see it?" I rubbed my eyes, but nodded in agreement to Pony's wishes. I would do anything for the kid.

We walked slowly down the creaking stairs, not wanting to wake anyone else up. Pony headed towards the door and I frowned.

"Pony, we shouldn't be going out at this time of day...night." Pony shook his head.

"No, we're not going far. Just on the porch." I rubbed my face again, surprise to feel some hair on my chin. Darry had some hair there sometimes, and I'd always thought it was weird.

"Ok." Pony led me outside, and the second the cool air touched me, I was completely awake.

"Wow." I murmured. It was the most beautiful thing I could remember seeing-and I had a sneaking suspicion that I had never seen anything this beautiful in my past life.

This time of morning was magical. The sunrise was just starting, and the sky was a pale dusk color. The little ugly houses and the dirt road shimmered like they were covered in silver, although I knew it was just frost.

"Johnny and I used to look at sunsets and sunrises together." Pony said softly.

"Yeah I understand why. It's beautiful." We sat on the front stairs, neither of us speaking, completely comfortable in eachothers company.

* * *

_**Darry POV**_

I went into Pony and Soda's room at about seven o'clock but only saw one body. I figured Pony was out watching the sunrise. I had noticed that Dally's bed was empty also, and I concluded that Pony had taken him along.

Sure enough, after I had shaken Soda and made sure he got out of bed, I saw the two silhouettes sitting on our porch steps. They both looked so peaceful, I hated to disturb them, but Pony needed to get to school.

I came up silently behind them and lightly tapped Pony on the head. He smiled up at me, and without saying a word to Dallas, he left to go get dressed.

When Dally looked up at me and in the gray light, his eyes looked almost clear. He smiled and followed Pony into the house.

I wondered when I would get used to Dallas smiling.

I tried to show Dally how to make eggs that morning, but he failed miserably. His egg ended up overcooked and clumpy, but he was so proud of it, he ate it anyway.

Soda laughed when he saw this, telling Dally that he had real potential to be a gourmet chef. Dally beamed at him, not getting the sarcasm, and Soda cracked up.

Just then, the door slammed. Two-Bit and Steve walked in. Two-Bit was gonna be taking care of Dal today, and I had given him strict guidelines on how to treat the kid.

I think Two-Bit understood, but he wasn't happy that he couldn't drink.

"Hey guys." Dally said beaming at them. Two-Bit grinned back, probably already planning the things he could do with Dally today. Not the best idea to let Two-Bit watch over him.

"Hey Dally. I see you made some eggs this morning." Dally grinned. Once he had tasted my eggs, he had decided against being a gourmet chef.

"Yeah. You guys want any? I probably shouldn't cook them though."

"Aww, nonsense." Two-Bit chided. "Can't be worse than Sodapop's eggs." At that moment, Soda came back from taking a shower, and he tackled Two-Bit while trying to pull on a shirt.

I smiled at my new gang. At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Nobody knocks on our door unless they're on official business.

I hurried to get it, foolishly leaving Dally in charge of the eggs. At the door was a police officer. I left the screen door closed, not wanting him to come in.

"Darrel Curtis?" I nodded mutely. "Here are the court appointments for Dallas Winston. He will be represented by a public defender."

I was too surprised to speak. The police officer opened the door and handed me the pieces of paper. I stared dumbfounded at his retreating back.

Dally came from the kitchen to where I was standing. He looked up at me, curious. "What's wrong Darry?"

My heart swelled. How could they think of putting Dally in jail now? He was only 17, and he acted like a four year old. He wasn't brain dead, but he was slow and innocent.

I swallowed. I hated lying to him. I couldn't lie to him again.

I ruffled his hair and said shortly, "We'll talk about it when I get home today, ok?" He nodded, smiling broadly again.

He held out the plate he had in hand. On it were some blackened mystery foods. "Eggs and toast?" He asked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the awesome reviews! As promised, here is the next chapter!**

**I do not own The Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

I knew something was wrong with my oldest brother, Darry. He jumps at the smallest sounds and he keeps rubbing his face, like he's tired. I wondered sheepishly if I had caused it.

He said we would talk about it when he got home from work, but I waited until we were eating to ask. Everyone's happiest when they're eating Darry's delicious food.

"Hey Darry?" Darry looked up from his plat, which he hadn't touched. I think he may have been falling asleep at the table. He forced a grin. I was getting to know these people, and I could tell when they were lying.

"What's wrong Dare?" His smile disappeared, and he put his head in his hands. He and Soda exchanged glances. I guess they both knew what was going on.

"Uh, Dally, do you remember- or- do you know what jail is?" I felt something in my stomach. I can't remember ever having this feeling, but for some reason, I knew what it meant. I ran out of the room into the bathroom. I started to cry as I heaved my insides into the toilet bowl.

All of the gang ran after me, and Darry and Soda took their positions next to me, rubbing my back. Pony, Steve, and Two-Bit stood in the doorway awkwardly, unable to fit into the tiny bathroom.

After a minute, liquid stopped hitting the toilet bowl, but I continued to make the motions of throwing up. It was a disgusting feeling, and I hated the taste in my mouth. This only made me cry harder.

Darry heave me up to the sink and forced me to rinse out my mouth an brush my teeth. I felt better afterwards, but I was still crying. I collapsed onto Darry's shoulder, not even sure why I was crying anymore.

"Shhh. Dally. Shh." Darry kept saying, almost sternly, but I didn't listen to him. I had images of jail in my mind. Bars and grime. Torture machines and mean looking police officers in every room. I had no memories of what jail actually looked like.

After a while I hiccuped and then smiled. Darry looked surprised as I grinned broadly. Then I started to laugh, more in relief than humor. The gang looked at me like I was insane, but I also saw a flash of recognition in their eyes. They looked lie, for the first time, they recognized me. I realized later that this was because I was laughing off such a sentence as going to jail.

"Uh, Dal?" Steve looked Wary as he went over to me. I hadn't had much contact with Steve, but I liked his hair. I liked looking at the swirls and trying to follow one piece of hair all the way around his head.

"Yeah Steve?"

"Why are ya laughin' bud?" I frowned, wondering why _no one else _was laughing.

"Darry wasn't serious. He was just pulling my leg." I grinned at Darry, glad that I got the joke, even it deep down I thought it was a little cruel. "I didn't do anything to get into jail, so I can't go."

Darry guided me over to the couch, our dinner lay forgotten on the table. I leaned into Darry, smiling trustingly up at him.

"Dally, I wasn't kidding." My smile faded a little when I realized that I had no idea what had happened before... before...

"Darry, I can't believe I haven't asked this yet. How was I shot? Did a bad guy get me?" Pony and I had read comics with bad guys in them. They always wore black or red, the colors or evil and blood. I imagined me with a cape on and a bad guy shooting my in the head. Despite the severity of the situation, I giggled a little.

"Um." Darry looked at a complete loss at what to say. Soda sat on my other side, always the understanding one.

He and Darry exchanged a look and then they both nodded in unison. "Dally, we've told you about...Johnny." Soda choked a little on the last word. I nodded sadly, patting his shoulder.

"Well, Dally, you loved him more than anything. He was your little brother, the only person that kept you sane." I frowned. I had not missed the implications on "kept you sane." If something had to keep me from going crazy, I must have been on the brink of insanity.

"And the night he died, you were really sad. _Really _sad." I nodded apprehensively. "You had a gun Dally. You went to a store and robbed it with the gun. Then the police came after you. You held out your gun, and they thought that your were going to shoot them, so they pulled out their own guns and...one of them shot."

Soda seemed in a rush to finish his story until the last few words which he slowed down, painfully. I stared at my hands. I didn't remember any of this. I didn't remember loving Johnny like a kid brother, or robbing that store, or getting shot by the police when it all became too much.

I felt tear come from my almost dried up tear ducts. For some reason I didn't want to cry right now. I didn't want the gang to see me cry again. I had come to the conclusion that crying displays weakness. I wasn't going to cry anymore.

Glory, it was hard as hell not to cry.

"Nothings definite yet Dal. You have to appear in court and tell your story. Maybe the judge will believe you."

I nodded stoically. Darry looked at my painfully. He leaned close to me and whispered, 'It's ok to cry Dal." I shook my head, trying not to let the tears spill.

He put his arm around me and squeezed me to him. Soda patted my arm, and I felt amazingly loved. Even Pony, Steve, and Two-Bit had come to sit at our feet, just looking at me concernedly.

* * *

_**Darry POV**_

As I forcedly walked Pony (complaining loudly) and an unusually compliant Dally to bed, I reveled at how young Dally seemed. He reminded me irresistibly of Johnny.

I hugged Pony goodnight, giving him a look that said, "_Wish me luck with Dally." _He grinned. One thing Dally had not lost was his stubborness.

I shepherded Dally to his bedroom, but did leave when Dally lay face-down on the bed. I crawled through his closet sized bedroom to sit next to him on the bed. I rubbed his back in between his shoulder blades where I knew he used to always be sore.

Not often, but sometimes I missed the old Dally that could take anything. He was so tough...But I had always known that was a facade. Now I saw the real Dal, the one that maybe even he hadn't known about, and he scared the hell out of me.

"Dally..." I was glad he interrupted me, because I honestly didn't have anything to say.

"Darry, was I always a bad person?" He turned on to his side so that he could see me. I hesitated, then nodded.

"I deserve jail then." He said flatly. I cursed myself for being so harsh.

"Dally, I'm gonna tell you about yourself and I don't want to be interrupted, ok?" I waited for his curt nod then continued. "Before you were shot, you never showed any emotion. You never told us what had happened back in New York, but something awful, we were sure of it. I ain't sorry that you've forgotten about that. Everyone thought you were a no good hood, but the entire gang loved and respected you, especially Johnny. You did everything. Drank, jumped little kids, beat up old people, but you never crossed the line that would make you go to jail forever. You had enough sense to not do that. you never did an honest days work in your life, but we all knew that you had more capability of love then any of us, even Johnny. That's why you cracked and no one else did. You reached your breaking point. But god or whatever, karma, decided that you needed a second chance."

Dally was silent after this bomb was dropped. "I deserve whatever I get." He mumbled. "I can't believe I would hurt people or steal or drink."

I sighed and stood up, patting Dally on his head. I couldn't deal with this emotional crap.

I walked towards Pony's room. "Hey Pony, can you talk to him?"

* * *

_**Pony POV**_

I noticed that Dally was crying when I walked in. He quickly brushed aside the tears and smiled up at me weakly. I hated how he tried to hide his tears from me now. Darry had told me about that Soc, and I figured that had something to do with it.

I closed the door behind me and kept the lights off, wanting to calm Dally down a little bit, and let him cry where he thinks I can't see him.

"Hey Dallas." He shuddered at the sound of his name.

"Hey Pony." I walked over to him, and let him put his arm around me. I think it's good for him to feel like he needs to protect someone else, even though I'm not as innocent as him.

"Hey Dally?" He shook again, but I pretended not to notice. "I want to share something with you. It's a poem that Johnny and I used to say to each other." I hesitated then began to speak again.

"_Nature's first green is gold_

_He hardest hue to hold_

_her early leafs a flower_

_but only so an hour_

_then leaf subsides to leaf_

_so Eden sank to grief_

_then dawn goes down to day_

_nothing gold can stay." _

Dally was silent for a long while, and I almost though he was a sleep. Then he spoke abruptly. "I get it. Your saying that I get another chance. In the line 'then leaf subsides to leaf' that's actually saying, 'then life gives way to new life.' Your saying nothing I do now will matter anyways, but I still have to try. I have to try to stay gold, and I have to keep Eden alive. But this poem, no matter how pretty it is, isn't going to change anything. I'm still Dallas, mean, too tough Dallas."

He waited a moment then spoke again. "I hurt people, I tried to murder myself, and now I know as much as a six year old does. Darry's right. It's karma."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews! I promise I will make it worth your while...:)))**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

The court house was small. It was on the line separating the east and west side, but it is positioned next to a glamorous shoe store and the large marble pillars are devoid of graffiti. It's on the Socs territory.

For some reason, the Socs seem to hate me especially. They would shout four letter words and call me names. I had learned how to keep my face clean of emotion. That way, they would only shout at me, not beat me up.

Darry always said "Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me," But I know this isn't true. Words hurt, more than sticks, stones, or even bullets.

Darry was sitting next to me on the uncomfortable pew like seat. I could tell he was nervous because he wrung his hands like he was washing them.

He smiled down at me weakly but reassuringly all the same. He forced his hands to stop their frantic motions, and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"You're gonna be ok Dally. Don't worry about it honey." The curtis boys all called each other honey, but I was the only one outside of the family that got that pet name. When I asked Soda about it, he looked surprised and insisted that I _was _part of the family. I knew this wasn't true, but it was nice to think so.

Court was amazingly boring. The judge (a fat old man with quivering jowls) had a rasping voice like he had smoked too many cigarettes in his youth. Darry had told me about the damage cigarettes do to your lungs, and Pony and I quit. Or at least I did. Pony still does it occasionally.

They called up the clerk that I had robbed from to the chair. I didn't recognize him. Then they called up the doctor, who explained about my amnesia.

Hours seemed to stretch out into days. Darry's arm had turned rigid around my shoulders, and it was a little uncomfortable, but I didn't want him to move it. I was scared out of my wits, and I needed Darry to hold me there, just so I wouldn't run out of that building.

The judge banged his gavel and called for a "30 minute recess" while he decided the verdict. I didn't really understand what was going on.

The judge hadn't asked me any questions, but instead addressed them to the public defender. I ducked out from under Darry's arm, which had obtained a python like grip around my neck.

"Darry, am I going to jail?" He swallowed visibly.

"If you're guilty, yes." I think he realized how harsh that sounded, because he engulfed me in a gentler hug.

"So I am. Darry, I did do those terrible things." I felt Darry shake his head, but he didn't say anything. He let go of me, but kept his hands on my shoulders, and stared me seriously in the eyes. I had seen mothers do this to small children in the park, and it always meant the kid was in trouble.

"What?" I asked, wondering if I had done something wrong. He just continued to stare at me, his eyes warming when he looked at me.

"Dally, you are going to be fine. I swear my life on the fact that nothing and no one will ever hurt you as long as I am alive, savvy?"

I nodded, a lump in my throat. He could promise this, but he couldn't follow through. I don't blame him for trying to make me feel better, but it was an empty promise.

"Ok Darry." I think I said it more for his sake than for mine. He breathed out a sigh of relief after I said it, anyways.

We sat in silence, not mingling with the rest of the gang as they chatted nervously in the back of the room, looking supremely out of place against the white officialness of the court room.

Court resumed session after only about twenty more minutes, which flew by like seconds. The judge and lawyers didn't call anymore witnesses to the stage. There was a shuffling of papers from the judge, and then he cleared his throat with the sound of chalk snapping.

"Ahem. Dallas Winston is a 17 year old male who threatened a squad of police officers with a gun. The gun was not loaded, but this is still a federal crime. He would receive 3 months, as a first time offense. However, due to the uh...special circumstances, (being that Dallas remembers nothing and seems to have forgotten his old ways) we give him 2 weeks in the Tulsa country prison."

Darry's arm around me shoulders tightened, and I felt sensation of tears in my eyes. I didn't have the energy to keep them in, so I let them fall to my lap, not meeting the judges eyes.

I got up quickly, forcing Darry to let go of me (I'm pretty strong) and looked up through blurry eyes at the judge. "Thank you." I said softly, because Darry had taught me to, but somehow I wasn't thankful. I ran down the aisle and hear shouting after me.

I wondered vaguely why, but didn't pause. I ran into the sunlight, collapsing behind a small bush and completely breaking down.

The autumn wind rustled my hair and the tears dried quickly on my cheeks, but more tears just as quickly replaced the first.

Police burst through the court room doors and looked around wildly for me, cursing as bad as any Soc. My eyes went wide at the things they were calling me, and more tears spilled over. I sniffed and Darry (who had followed the policeman) heard me.

He ran over to my hiding spot in the bushed, hurriedly crouching down beside me. He pulled me to him and whispered "It's ok" in my ear over and over again.

This show of empathy only made me cry harder, and Darry's shirt was soon soaked. The policemen looked a little scared and I heard one of them say, "Man, I've seen that boy smirk as one of the prisoners..." I didn't catch the rest but Darry did.

He let go of me suddenly, then wheeled to the policemen. "What?" Darry's voice was darker and scarier than I had ever heard. Even the fuzz backed away a little in alarm. Darry screamed this time. "THEY WHAT!"

I heard the policemen try to calm Darry down, obviously explaining something to him, and I heard Darry practically yelling at them.

I felt really dizzy, and my sobs accompanied by a pain in my head made my surroundings too loud to hear what they said. I gasped as my already blurry vision went black around the edges, and I felt myself fall to the ground.

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

I woke in a cot. Not the small, comfortable bed that the Curtis' have, but a bunk-bed cot with scratchy wool blankets covering it. I wasn't used to being this high up, and I peered curiously at my surroundings, until I realized where I must be.

Jail. I was sure I didn't like jail. I had no memories, but the smell and the dim lights made my heart beat faster.

I let out a little yell, and a mean looking man who was on the bottom bunk stared calculatingly up at me. "What is it, runt?" I winced at the insult, although I had been called worse.

"N-nothing." The man snorted.

"Never met a hardened criminal who stuttered. What's your name kid? You don't look more than 15." I was insulted at this.

"I'm 17. And my name's Dally." I heard nothing for a minute, then I noticed something on the boys face. Something sparkly, that glimmered in the moonlight.

"Hey kid." His voice was a lot softer now, and I didn't really understand why. "So, what'd you do?"

"Uh. I robbed a grocery store with a g-gun. And I threatened and officer..." My throat felt hick. Why was I such a bad person? What else had I done in my short, miserable life?

"Oh yeah. After Johnny..."

"You knew Johnny?" I asked this curiously, and I heard the man chuckle without humor.

"Yeah. Real well. Well, not really. Never spoke more than two words to the kid, but I know he was a great guy. I know someone who was pretty close to him. One of his little 'gang.'" He snorted forcedly. "If you can call it that."

"Pony's told me about gangs. He says they're dangerous and that I shouldn't get mixed up in them. He says theres this one group of greasers thats sort of like a gang, the Shepard Outfit. He says that we're all just really good friends that have each others backs."

Thinking about Pony made my heart throb, and I realized how much I was going to miss him, Darry, Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve.

"So, Ponyboy told you about the Shepard outfit huh? You know, I've...uh.._.heard_ stories about you. You used to get mixed up in that shit all the time." I winced at the swear, and hoped the boy didn't notice. He did and laughed loudly.

He climbed up onto my bed, and I was a little scared. For the first time, I saw his face in the little light the night had. It was scarred by souvenirs of many battles, and the long black hair was unruly and sticking out all over his head (like mine, except his was curly) making him look deranged.

"Look how much you've changed Dal." His voice was soft and the glittering thing on his cheek made it's way down his cheek.

For the first time, I realized that I may have known this man before today. Maybe in my "other life" we had bunked together in jail or robbed stores together. The thought made me shudder.

"What do you mean?" I finally asked, sincerely curious.

"Nothing." He stuck out a calloused hand which I grasped awkwardly in a handshake.

"By the way, what's your name?"

"My name? Timothy William Shepard, but you call me Tim." I frowned. I suppose I must have known him if I called him Tim instead of his full name. "Or Shepard, or Shep...once you called my Timmy and I-" His voice broke. "I cracked your ribs. Sorry about that Dally."

"So we were friends?" I asked, trying to keep the disdain out of my voice. Darry says that if we don't want to be judged, we shouldn't judge other people.

"Yeah. You were my only friend. Dal, How come your not dead? Why didn't you recognize me? Why haven't you punched me yet...Why did you ask my name, Dallas?" I was surprised that Tim didn't know what had become of his only friend.

"I don't know why I'm not dead. I was shot. I should have died. I should know who I am and be with Johnny and know who Johnny is, but I don't. I'm sorry. I have no idea who you are. I didn't know I had any friends, besides my brothers I mean."

My voice cracked and I cleared my throat embarrassedly. "Oh. I guess I understand why Darry didn't tell me. Didn't want you caught up in bad stuff again."

My brain finally made the connection to Tim and the Shepard Outfit that Pony had told me about. I gasped. "You're Tim Shepard!"

He chuckled. "Always were a smart one kid." I got the feeling that he wasn't being serious.

"But you're the leader of the gang?"

"Uh...yeah, but I'm pretty sure Dave is taking over while I'm in jail. I'm gonna be stuck in here for the next Two months. Beat up some Soc. Totally unfair sentence, but that's just he glorious life of a greaser." I got the same feeling that he was kidding, and I wanted to be let in on the joke, so I laughed and imitated his tone.

"Yeah. Really glorious." He laughed so hard he almost fell off of the bed, and a security guard glared annoyingly at us, but said nothing.

"That was the worst sarcasm I have ever heard from anyone." He chuckled as I wondered what sarcasm meant.

He sobered up suddenly. "Where have you been Dallas?" I liked the way he said my name. Not like an patronizing older brother, but like I was an equal. It made me feel like my old self again, whatever that was.

"I was staying with my bothers." He was silent.

"Dally, you don't have any brothers." I nodded, eyed, as Tim shook his head. "The only person you ever loved is dead. _He _was your brother." I knew he was talking about Johnny.

"I don't remember Johnny. I wish to god that I did remember him. I feel sad sometimes, Like I'm looking for something and I cant find it, but I don't remember ever loving Johnny. And Soda, Darry, Pony, Steve, and Two-Bit are my brothers now."

"God, you sound just like him." Thinking of my brothers and that empty hole where someone I had never known should fit brought tears of my eyes. I let out a little sob, and Tim Shepard gasped in surprise. "Are you crying Dal?"

Now he sounded like my brothers, not as though I were an equal. He hesitated, then patted my shoulder awkwardly. "It's ok Dal. I swear, if I could forget, I would in a second."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the awesome reviews! the faster you review, the faster I update. I'm about to finish off "Dominoes" and "Superman's tights" so I can come out with another story. Its gonna be the first one that Johnny is alive in:))))**

**I do not own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

Jail had, so far, lived up to (and surpassed) my wildest expectations. I think that if Tim hadn't been there, I would have died.

My first impression of Tim was that he was a tough, wild hood with no emotions. From what he told me, we used to be two of a kind, except he had always cared for people, and I hadn't.

On night we were sitting on Tim's bottom bunk, discussing my past life. I think it pained Tim to talk about this. He would grit his teeth, as though in pain, but he never refused to talk to me.

"Tim," I had asked hesitantly, after he had finished telling me about some wild adventure, of which I had no recollection. "Did you- do you..."

"Out with it kid!" Tim was not a very patient person.

"Sorry." But I didn't elaborate. My ears felt hot, and I knew I was blushing deeply. Tim sighed, but patted my shoulder.

"C'mon kid. You can tell me." I always wondered why Tim was so nice to me. I hadn't seen much of the other prisoners in the day and a half that I had been here, but Tim had told me how he _usually _dealt with his bunk mates.

"Do you...like me?" Realizing how awkward this sounded, I hurriedly elaborated. "I mean, do you like _me _better, or what I used to be."

Tim thought for a moment. I could tell when he was thinking hard, because he cocked his head to the left and ran his fingers through his long tangled hair.

"I honestly don't know Dal. Dallas and I were...real close. God, that kid hated me. I beat him up so many times, he had to wear a cup on his- well, anyway, I considered him my brother."

I nodded, trying to hold back tears. Tim doesn't like it when I cry, and I hate it when he feels obligated to comfort me.

"But," I still refused to meet his eyes, hiding my shining ones conspicuously in the darkness. "But, Dallas didn't love anyone." There was a bitterness in his tone. "I sometimes wonder if he even loved Johnny. He just wanted to die."

"I'm not dead you know. I'm right here." Tim chuckled. For the first time, he wrapped his wiry, muscled arms around my shoulders in a brotherly hug.

"No you aren't. Dallas is dead. You're Dally, and I'm glad that Dallas got a second chance."

That was when my first impression of him died. I now thought of him as an older brother of sorts, all though he couldn't replace my _"real" _brothers.

I missed Darry, Pony, Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit like I'd never missed anything. That's why the second day in jail was the best. For another reason, it was the worst.

The alarm blared for exercise time. I had missed this on my first day, busy being interrogated by a police officer, and I was thankful for missing it.

I was lucky again today. As Tim escorted me to the yard, more tense looking than usual, a guard caught my attention. Tim looked relieved that I wasn't going to the yard. He had been telling me all morning what to do and say during this "free for all."

"Dally?" He smiled at me. The guards here had been cold and cruel to me at first, but when they had heard my story and seen the evidence for themselves, most of them had warmed up to me. I liked this particular guard. His name was "Rudyard" and he said he was named after a poet. His parents were both well known artists and they had wanted him to do something in the arts.

"Hi Rudyard." I said, distracted with the apprehension of going out into the prison playground.

"C'mon Dallas. Your friends are here to see you. Darry, Sodapop, and Pony?" I smiled widely at him and waved goodbye to Tim, who only glared playfully at me.

I followed Rudyard, keeping up a constant chatter about unimportant things, excited and almost nervous at the prospect of seeing my brothers again.

Rudyard just laughed at me kindly. "Kid, I'm gonna let you actually see them ok? Not just through the glass with the phone crap. You can hug them or whatever, but I'll be watching you." He tried to make a joke out of it, raising one eyebrow and pointing at his eyes, then to mine. I knew he was serious though, and I nodded, a smile still playing on my face.

Pony, Darry, and Soda were sitting on comfortable chairs in a small, white walled room. Rudyard took his place by the door, and smiled at me encouragingly.

I ran to Darry first and wrapped my arms around him tightly. Soda clapped me on the back, and I was suddenly engulfed in a huge group hug. I hugged Pony separately, examining his face, asking if he was ok. Poor kid was only 14, and this experience must be traumatizing for him. His entire life was traumatizing.

When the obligatory hugs and "how are you's" were over with, I introduced them to Rudyard. He looked surprised at being addressed, as did my brothers.

"Your friend is my favorite er...prisoner. I mean to say, he's a nice kid." I grinned at him goofily.

"Thanks for the good report Rudyard." Darry looked Rudyard carefully in the eye, analyzing him. His face broke into a pained smile.

"_Please _keep an eye on him." It looked to me as though Darry and Rudyard had a private conversation with their eyes. Rudyard nodded seriously, a sad expression on his face.

Then Soda turned to me. "Dally, are you ok? No ones hurt you right?" His eyes looked like they were on the verge of becoming angry. I knew that Soda was over-protective, and if someone even looked at me the wrong way, hardened criminal or not, it would mean blood.

I shook my head happily. "I'm with a really nice bunk mate. We were friends before...Anyway, his name's Tim Shepard."

Darry looked slightly worried, and I frowned at him. "What? Tims a _really _good guy! If it were anyone else, they might make fun of me, or even _hit me!"_ I shuddered at the thought. I hated it when people shouted "greaser!" at me, or tripped me as I walked down the street.

Darry and Soda looked especially pained at this (probably because they don't want kids to tease me.) I decided. Pony was better at hiding his emotions.

"Well, I'm glad you made some friends Dal." I smiled down at him, and slung an arm over his shoulders, happier than I could ever remember being. Probably happier than I ever _had _been.

* * *

I walked out of the room, the grin still plastered to my face. Rudyard walked beside me, but I felt he was more of a friend than a guard.

"Is free time over yet?" I asked, hoping it was. He shook his head, and seemed to read my thoughts.

"But you don't need to go out just yet." I was relieved, but only for a second.

"But I'm gonna have to tomorrow. And the day after that. and 11 days after that. An hour outside with the toughest criminals. And if Tim tried to protect me, it's gonna just make people target him _and _me. Tim told me how it is."

Rudyard nodded. "You know, even before all this amnesia crap we were friends. I would sneak you a cigarette sometimes. You didn't want to do the things you have to do in jail to get a cigarette. And I didn't want you to. For gods sake, the first time you came here, you were ten. Sassy ten year old also, but I saw you cryin' in your bed once, and then I decided that no matter how tough you were, I was gonna look after you."

"Thanks Rudyard. But I'm not tough. Not anymore I ain't. Sometimes I wish I could be, but I don't want to not love anyone, and that's what being tough it." Rudyard was silent for a minute, choosing his words carefully.

"Darry's tough, and he loves. What I'm saying is, you need an on an off switch. before your accident, you were more like a broken motion sensor- only some people registered on your love radar. A very broken motion sensor."

This didn't make much sense to me, but then again, I wasn't very smart, even though Pony would beg to differ. "Do I have to go to break?"

Rudyard nodded. "Yeah. Sorry kid, but it's the law. I could lose my job. I'll keep a _very _close eye on you." he made the 'I'm watching you' motion again, and I tried to force a laugh as I walked into the slightly crisp tulsa sunlight.

The prison yard wasn't very well kempt. The balls the prisoners were attempting to kill each other with, were too soft to do any real damage.

A ball was thrown at me, and I caught it, reflexively. I looked around for it's owner, before a body came flying at me. I yelped, and dropped the ball. I realized that it was only Tim, then I wondered why he pushed me down.

Then I realized. Running towards us were squadrons of prisoners, all with a manic glint in their eye. Tim's breath was quick, but I still didn't piece together why he was lying on me, until the first blow hit him.

The prisoner had undoubtedly been aiming for me, but he caught Tim in the ribs. Time groaned, and I gasped, comprehension washing through me.

I tried to push Tim off of me, but he was too heavy and too strong. He winced as he caught a punch directed at my head.

Rudyard pushed his way through the crowd as the yelling became louder and the blows hit Tim harder and faster. Rudyard pulled me out from under Tim.

The minute I wasn't underneath Tim, the punches stopped raining on him. Instead the hits were aimed at me, but Rudyard ran, practically dragging me along with him.

"Medic!" A man dressed in white ran to Tim. I saw blood run over me eye, and I shuddered. It must be Tim's blood.

"C'mon kid." Rudyard said gruffly. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Rudyard escorted me to the showers, then went to get me a towel and clothes. It wasn't shower time, so technically I was breaking the rules, but the water was warm (a luxury) and I found myself lulled by the sound of the water hitting the shower floor.

I was broken out of my peaceful state by men's low voices and loud, thumping footsteps. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Fanfiction hates me, so none of my stories are going to the beginning of the feed D: So, depending on the reviews and how much depression I can take from this story, I might cut it short and do one of those lame, "Well, what do ****_you _****think happened" endings. I don't know. Ok, whoever answers this Outsider trivia question first gets a prize: What did the sign above the entrance to Buck's say?**

**I don't own the Outsiders**

* * *

_**Dallas**__** POV**_

The heavy footfalls made me wince. What now? Couldn't I even shower in peace?

Four men bounded into the bathroom, reckless and sadistic leers painted on their faces. I discreetly turned off the water, and wrapped a towel tightly around my waist.

I was small and quiet. Had the men not been looking for me, I would have been able to sneak out behind them, but as it was, luck was not on my side.

The biggest of them had jet black hair, cut choppily, short in some places, long in others, but it looked purposeful. It wasn't greased. None of their hair was greased. In my short time here I had learned the difference between good and bad: greased= good; not greased= bad.

Tim had taught me that.

As the men closed ranks around me, I screamed for Tim, but remembered too late that he was in the hospital wing. I had wasted my one scream.

The man with the choppily cut hair, moved towards me. "Dallas Winston." He said, and I could tell by the spite in his voice that we knew each other.

"Yeah?" My voice was squeaky; I had never been good at sounding tough.

"I believe that you owe me."

"What?"

"Last time you were in here, you stole my drugs. Didn't even use them. You told on me like a little girl and got me stuck in here for the next seven years. Ring a bell?"

I shook my head, backing further against the wall, hoping I could slip through the weakest man on the end.

"Well, I figured you stole something of mine, so I'd steal something of yours."

"I don't have anything!"

"Spoken like a true whore." I didn't recognize the word, but the other men laughed cruelly and I flushed with anger. "Kneel."

The man said unexpectedly. I looked at him incredulously. Kneel? He wouldn't fight me while I was standing? coward. "I said kneel!"

I shrugged and knelt down, trying not to display my fear. I looked at him, and he began to approach me. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the blow,but he just stood there, smiling cruelly down on me.

"Well?"

"Well what?" The men howled with laughter. I hoped that someone would hear them and help me.

An image flashed through my head. An image of a small dark boy, one that reminded me of a kicked puppy, with bruises up and down his body, lying in Soda pop's arms. I shuddered, although I couldn't quite put a name to the boy. I didn't want to end up like him.

"You honestly don't remember how to do this? Here, I'll get you started." The man moved his hand, and I thought he was about to hit me. I flinched, but he only brought the hand to the zipper of his pants.

Was he going to take a shower? This didn't make any sense. I thought that they were going to beat me up.

He pulled down his pants and I looked away in embarrassment. I would never get used to prison bathrooms.

A hand forced my head forward, and I felt something touch my mouth. I opened my eyes in confusion, and found out what it was.

I screamed, but suddenly there was something _in _my mouth, cutting off my screams. The man forced my head to move, and I tried to get away.

One of the mans friends kicked me, hard. I cried out, and another blow landed on me. "Move, kid!" I tried to get away again, but this time I felt a sharper pain. a knife, digging into my side. How they got that knife past the prison guards, I had no idea, but at that moment, I didn't care.

I screamed louder, but my voice was muffled. I felt wetness inside my mouth that was no my own saliva, and seconds later, I tasted something sour and disgusting.

"Swallow!" Someone shouted. I tried to disobey, but the knife ripped open my skin again, and I obeyed.

I sat back, gasping, as the man zippered his pants. tears formed in my eyes, and I let them fall, letting out choking sobs. The man's grin looked like a cats.

"Man, if that'll make you cry, I'd hate to see you after this bit." Four men approached me, and I scuttled backwards, my injuries protesting.

The men inevitably caught me, and one of them pulled down my baggy prison pants. They unceremoniously tossed me to the side, both my pants and boxers torn off.

A different man with sleek, naturally greasy, hair down to his shoulder, undid his pants. The laugher around me reminded me of hyenas.

I was distracted from my terror by a terrible, foreign pain in my back region. I howled as loudly as I possibly could, and I heard pounding footsteps from far away.

The man began to move in and out and I went into a haze of pain and sounds. By the time the cat man, the long haired man, and the rest left me bleeding on the ground, I was knocked out.

_**Tim POV**_

The nurses patched me up, and then a smiling guard made to escort me to my room. I recognized him as the one that Dally was friends with.

He didn't try to talk to me, and I was grateful; I didn't want to get more time for beating up a guard. I froze when I heard something. The guard (What was his name? Robert? No...Rudyard?) kept on walking for about a meter, then stopped as well.

We exchanged glances. "C'mon Shepard. Better go see what that's about. If you cause any trouble, you can't come." I bit back my insult; I didn't appreciate being spoken to like a kid, but I _did _want to come.

We started at a brisk walk to where we had heard the blood curdling shriek. Every couple of minutes, a muffled scream of agony would sound, and my heart would stop for a second.

It sounded like whoever it was was in trouble. We practically jogged to the sounds, which had mysteriously stopped.

We came to the bathroom. The first thing I noticed was the five Socs who had tried to beat up Dally. I only caught a glimpse of them before the slipped out of the other door. Rudyard ran after them shouting, but I was too stunned to care about the terrible bestial (for want of a better word) _men. _

On the floor in the corner, unconscious and small, was Dallas Winston.

A memory surfaced, long suppressed by the horrors it contained. Dallas Winston, in the same situation with a grim smile on his face. I had been angry and worried. As I said, Dally was like a brother to me, but Dallas had just laughed cooly and told me not to worry.

Dally had been 13 then.

I rushed over to Dally and pulled on his clothes gingerly. He winced subconsciously, and I muttered "sorry" my voice cracking. He would never know how sorry I was.

Sorry that I hadn't been there. Sorry that this had happened. Sorry that his precious, golden innocence was gone.

I brushed the hair out of his eyes, and I felt every symptom of tears, but I couldn't cry. For Dally.

Blood was splattered everywhere. Dally's blood. Those sick bastards had made a little kid bleed. And I would be my remaining sanity they weren't sorry.

I cradled Dally in my arms, and he let out a whimper. I sobbed dryly, and took a shuddering breath to keep myself calm.

Rudyard stomped back. He looked livid with anger, but his gaze softened and saddened when it landed on Dally.

"Poor Dallas." I nodded numbly in agreement, and walked towards the hospital wing with Dally in my arms and Rudyard trailing behind, crying for the little boy who would never be quite so innocent again.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey!** ready for a trivia question?** **It's super hard. I dare you guys to not look it up! I can't check anything, but It would be cool if you could do it without the internet or the book:)**

**How many attachments were on the train that Pony and Johnny took to Windrixville?**

**Haha! good luck then!**

**I do not own the Outsiders**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

I woke up with a feeling of softer sheets around my body than I had grown accustomed to over the past few days. The musty smell that hung thick in the air around the prison was absent, replaced by a soft perfume.

For a moment I felt content, then I tried to squirm around, and let out a gasp of pain.

Pain was practically a foreign emotion to me. I was sure (from the stories that Tim told) that I had felt pain; and a lot of it, but this was the most pain I could remember being in.

I tried to move again, and this time I let out a whimper. A hand touched mine, struggling to bring me to full consciousness, but I fought the instinct to open my eyes.

"Dally. Dally honey." I recognized that voice, and the pet name used. But that voice and that name didn't belong in the cold walls of a prison.

It did however, have the desired effect of making me open my eyes. Darry sat in a folding chair next to my bed. He looked out of place against the white and teal walls of what I assumed was the hospital wing.

"Darry." I croaked out. I tried for a smile, but a bruise made it's presence known, and I felt tears form in my eyes.

"Darry, what happened? I don't get it! Why did they do that! I didn't like it!" My voice sounded young, far younger than a 17 year olds. I felt far younger than a 17 year old.

"I know sweetie. I-I don't know w-why anyone would want to hurt you."

"It isn't fair!" I cried passionately.

"I know. I'm so, _so sorry."_ Darry sounded like he was holding back tears. "Dally, y-you know that I love you. We all do. I hope you know that."

"It didn't make a difference. Nobody loved those Socs, but I'm the one who got hurt. I wonder if it works both ways." I mused aloud, not even aware at the moment that Darry was in the room. His hand tightened in a vise-like grip around mine. I winced, and he seemed to force himself to loosen his grip.

I didn't see why this freaked Darry out so much. O was just thinking, if the Socs didn't love anyone or be loved by anyone, if I were that way, I wouldn't get hurt. Just like the Socs.

"No." His voice was one that I had come to associate with tears; Husky and soft, with a certain fragile quality. "Dally, don't ever think that. What if Tim didn't love you? Or Rudyard? Where would you be now?"

"What if I hadn't love Johnnycakes? Or if I hadn't loved your parents? Wouldn't I be better off? They would be too, that's for sure. Johnny wouldn't be dead. He would have gotten a fair trial, and gotten imprisonment, but I was too selfish to let him become me. Your parents wouldn't have gone to pick me up from jail that night..."

My voice trailed off. I wasn't supposed to tell Darry that I knew that...

_(flash back)_

_"Pony?" We lay on our backs in the lot, gazing at all of the stars that Pony found as fascinating as though they were his favorite book._

_"Hmm, Dal?" I think he was dozing off, but I didn't feel too bad for waking him; he had told me to wake him before it got to late anyway._

_"Why were your parents in a car the night they died?" He paused for so long, I assumed he had fallen asleep again._

_"They were-uh- going to pick you up. They liked you. Thought you had a chance. You were in jail, and you always called them when you needed to be picked up. You always paid back the bail, no sweat. But the roads were icy...They never made it to pick you up."_

Darry growled, and his grip on my hand tightened again. "Don't you _ever _think that Dally. Please. What happened wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything. To Johnny or to my parents. It was that happiest day of the gangs lives when we found out that you were alive."

For some reason, when my laugh sounded, I detected sarcasm. "And the saddest. You found out Johnny had died in the same twenty-four hours."

Darry leaned his forehead down onto our clasped hands. After a minute, he began to shake, and I immediately felt guilty. I was hurting those I loved most- again.

I hesitantly put a hand on his shaking shoulder, marveling at the pain it conveyed. "Darry? Darry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of him."

Darry looked up, tears streaming down his face. "It's ok Dally."

I still was thinking about how much love hurts people, but I held my tongue, for Darry's sake. "Darry, what did they do to me? Why did they...Why didn't they just beat me up? It made me feel bad. I feel...not just sad but sort of...unclean?"

Darry looked saddened by what I said. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my forehead. I tried not to shudder. Suddenly voices were ringing in my head _"Hey greaser, need a kiss to make it all better?" _I could practically feel the lips against mine, taste the disgusting mixture of bad dental hygiene and smuggled drugs.

I think Darry saw though. He gave me a sympathetic look, and squeezed my hand. "You are the least dirty person I know Dal. Don't ever think that."

"I wish they'd just beat me up. I didn't like what they did, but they did. They enjoyed it more than beating me up. I don't get it."

Darry looked uncomfortable, but he didn't explain why they enjoyed it. He fiddled with a glass of water on my bedside table. "You get to leave. They're pressing charges on the guys that..that did what they did. Even if we don't win, you are free to go. Once you're better of course."

I smiled as Tim entered the door. There were tears in his eyes, and his unruly hair was even more of a rats nest than usual. His eyes were rimmed with red from crying, and black from sleepless nights. He looked thinner and older; even the shadows cast from the florescent light gave him a gaunt, depressed look.

"Hey Tim!" I was glad to see the guy. Darry patted my head, and looked like he wanted to hug me, but he restrained himself, remembering my wince at the perfectly friendly kiss.

I reached out my arms to him, and he folded into me, shaking slightly, from rage of sorrow. Maybe both. "It's ok Darry. You'll be ok." He laughed slightly, the sound muffled by my shoulder and his tears.

"I'm not worried about me Dal." He let go of me, and smiled bravely. I tried to mimic his expression, but I was feeling too depressed to really convince him.

Tim sat down in Darry's vacated seat. He looked awkward, and avoided my gaze. "What's up Tim?" I employed a voice I might use when approaching an injured animal (or a drunk Steve.)

"N-nothing. So, you get to leave?" I nodded. "You excited?" I shrugged noncommittally.

"Darry's acting weird. I don't want to have to deal with that. But I'm happy enough. The funny thing is, I felt almost safe in here. I had you to protect me, and no one could hurt me when I was inside me cell, and I started having these dreams..."

Tim jerked his head up and stared intently at me. "What sort of dreams?"

"I don't really know. There's this one where this cute little boy is being hurt by his father. I heard the screaming, and I ran towards it. His father and Mother were yelling at him. I felt different in my dream. Older, and somehow I knew stuff, but I don't understand _what _I knew. So I put my body in front of the little boy, and the man hit me. Then I started to hit him. The man ran away along with the woman, and I took the little boy outside. I wasn't hard around him, like I felt inside. I needed to protect him. Ever night I would ask, "What's your name?" He would open his mouth, and then the dream would end, before he told me."

Tim stared at me, then looked down again and shuddered. "Dally, those aren't dreams."

"What?"

"Those are memories."


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks for the reviews! No one has attempted the trivia questions yet! Are they too hard for you:( Don't worry...I took them from a quiz online, and I, who has read the Outsiders coming up on 17 times, only got 3/10.** **I'll make it a little easier. And the prize is bragging rights and an honorable mention in m story. Woah, I know right? What could POSSIBLY be a better reward!?:)))**

**What is the main physical difference between Darry and Mr. Curtis, and how is it different?**

**Not that hard, so its just a matter of who comments first!**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**"On the West side of town they say the streets are lined with gold.  
But the all the peoples tongues are turning black from the lies they told.  
On the East side of town you can hear someones baby crying.  
And when the kid grows up he's going to turn into a mean old guy."**_

_**We Gotta Leave, **_**_Caesars_**

_**Dally POV**_

"Tim, I can't remember anything still! I can't remember my parents-"

"You don't have any."

"Or any of the little adventures that you've told me about! It's just a dream."

"You don't remember those adventures because they weren't important to you. Johnny was your world." Tim sounded bitter. I felt a pang of guilt that Tim hadn't meant anything to me.

I smiled at him distractedly, my mind on more important things. Could it be that I was starting to remember things? Did I want to? I had heard stories from my brothers about my past life, and they reminded me of the horror stories told in close confidence around a campfire.

"Tim," I hesitated, not sure how to phrase my thoughts, "I don't want to turn hard again." Tim looked at me pityingly, and I averted my gaze.

"I'm sorry Dally. I'm so sorry." My heart sank. I would have to grow up. I couldn't stay innocent forever. That's what those words meant; total and utter defeat admitted by the most stubborn man I knew.

I just shrugged as if I didn't care. "Dallas," Tim only used my full name when he was serious. This wasn't too often; like Two-Bit he hid behind a mask of uncaring, only his had holes. "Are you ok? I mean...I know you're not ok, but..."

He trailed off. I looked into Tim's almost black eyes. There was a little shimmer in the corner of the left one, and it made him look younger than he had in the dark of the jail cell. I could tell Tim.

"No. I'm not ok." Tim nodded sadly at me.

"You know, I am one of the only ones in this jail complex that has never done anything like that, either voluntarily or against my will. I would trade that for it not to happen to you."

"This is a common thing to happen? Why? Why do they find so much pleasure in beating up people?"

"It's not the beating on people that gives them pleasure." I was still confused, but he didn't elaborate. After a pause that hung thick in the air, Tim spoke again. "Are you excited to go home."

I nodded slowly, then added, "But I'm really gonna miss you. When do you get out of here?"

Tim smiled ruefully at me. "I don't really know. Can't even remember what I did to be honest. I was drunk, then I woke up in here. I've been here for a couple weeks. Since..."

Tim trailed off awkwardly, glancing up quickly at me, before ducking his head to his hands. "Since...what?"

"Since...you tried to..."

"Kill myself?"

"Uh...yeah. Anyway, I must have done something, and I could probably find out my sentence if I wanted to, but I don't care."

Darry slinked back into the room, attempting to hide his bulk in the shadows. I waved at him, and he nodded his head in my direction. He moved into the light, and I saw that he had a black eye.

I gasped loudly, and Tim jerked around in his chair. He and Darry exchanged looks, then they both nodded, some sort of mutual understanding reached.

I on the other hand, was feel an emotion that I couldn't remember feeling, but was familiar with: white hot rage. The image of the tanned boy with the heavily greased hair and puppy dog eyes flashed in my mind. I envisioned punching a faceless Soc who had hurt the boy, and a monster inside of me roared it's approval.

"Who did this to you?" My voice was low and dangerous, almost a growl. Tim and Darry gave me confused and- strangely- almost scared looks. "Darry, who hurt you?" It came out a barked order, not my usual innocent submissive tone.

"N-no one." Darry didn't ever stutter, but then again, I had never seen him this scared. "Dal, do you want to go home now?"

"Darry, I swear, I will kill whoever hurt you. Tell me who it was."

"Don't talk like that Dally. Plus, I don't look half as bad as the other guy." This brought a reluctant grin to my face. "Anyway, you ready to get out of this place Dal?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess." I glanced at Tim, who scowled, as usual. "Can I come visit you?"

"Only if I'm good."

"Can you be good?" The grin split his face, an unusual emotion for Tim Shepard.

"Sure Dally. I'll be good if you _promise _to come visit me real soon, ok?"

"Yeah. I'll be seeing ya." His face returned to it's scowl as he helped me up.

I screamed softly as I experienced new pain. Tim held me close to him, petting my hair roughly, shaking with rage at my pain.

"I'm ok. I'm ok." I whimpered softly, obviously _not _ok. Glory, did I hate pain. Darry put my shoes down in front of me, and I walked into them, feeling like a little kid as Darry did up the laces.

"Do you want me to carry you Dal?"

"Um...I-I don't really want to be touched too much if it can be helped." I felt like such a jerk saying this, and I hoped Darry wasn't hurt by it. He just nodded thoughtfully though.

"Ok. Put as much weight on me as you want though. We are gonna have to go really slowly." I looked at Tim as Darry extended his arm, and I felt tears brimming in my eyes.

I hadn't cried in so long; I could no longer contain myself. I let the tears out, along with a couple choked sobs. Tim smiled down at me encouragingly. "Hey, don't cry Dally. You're gonna be just fine. Shh..."

I finally let go of him, and clasped tightly onto Darry's arm. I already could barely stand the pain. Just as I was thinking this, Rudyard clamored around the corner, pushing an old wheelchair.

"You want this?" I smiled gratefully at him, and sat with a groan. I bit my lip thoughtfully.

"Rudyard, I don't want the guys to see me in a wheelchair."

"Don't worry; you'll be going the secret route that he guards pass through. If you see any of them there, it would ensure them another 10 years in jail for tryin' to escape."

Tim waved cheerfully at me, and I yelled, "I'll see you later Tim! I'll come visit you soon." Rudyard gave me a funny look.

"You won't being seeing him soon. You can't visit him, after what he did."

"Why? What is he in for?"

"Murder."


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow! Thanks for the reviews! I guess you liked the last chapter! I hope you continue to like it! please read, review, and enjoy...lots of explanations in this chapter...**

**What is Soda's middle name?**

**I do not own the Outsiders!**

* * *

I feel something so right  
By doing the wrong thing  
And I feel something so wrong  
By doing the right thing  
I could lie, could lie, could lie  
Everything that kills me makes me feel alive

Counting Stars, One Republic

* * *

**_Tim POV_**

I left Dal with a heavy weight on my chest. It wasn't a foreign feeling to me. Ever since I had gotten into my first gunfight I had had this weight on me; a weight that I had become almost immune to. But when Dally had come, the weight had left. Now, this re-appearance shocked me.

I already wished for Dally to be here. If he were here, he would silently walk beside me, but he would be there. He used to be so loud and obnoxious. Don't get me wrong, I loved Dallas to death, but I couldn't be myself around him. With Dally, I could say whatever I wanted, and know that he was listening, but no be made fun of.

I'm not making any sense.

But I had to keep secrets, even from Dally.

He couldn't ever find out about what I did...

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

Tim murdered someone. Someone with a life, friends, family, maybe even kids of their own; and it's all Tim's fault that he had to leave them. There is no excuse for what he did.

My own brother.

I wanted to see Tim. But not to talk to him, or be near him. I wanted to yell at him, to make him cry one tenth of the tears that the dead persons family must have cried. To hurt him.

I practically begged Rudyard to let me see him. He said yes, only because I gave him a stare I had perfected; big blue, puppy dog eyes with just the right amount of sadness.

At the moment, he was leading me to a room that he had bullied one of the intern guards into letting me and Tim speak in- alone. Although he warned me that he would be watching and listening.

I waited not-so-patiently for Tim, my anger boiling, giving me a headache.

When the jumpsuit clad figure stepped through the door, I focused all of my anger into my eyes and glared daggers at Tim.

He winced noticeably, but walked over to me all the same, reaching out hesitantly to touch my shoulder.

"Dally? Dal, are you ok?"

"No." I was trembling with rage and indignation, and I slapped his comforting hand on my shoulder away.

"Tell me this, _Tim," _I put as much menace as possible into the word, "Do you honestly not remember why you are in jail?"

Tim sighed in resignation. "So, you found out? Yeah, and?"

"AND! You killed someone Tim. You deserve the chair! Why the hell are you in plain jail?"

"So you're saying I deserve to die? A life for a life, is that it? You didn't know that boy that died!"

"And you did?"

"Yes!"

"Then what was his name? Tell me about him."

"I'm not going to tell you his name. He was still in high school. He was a Soc. He had a girlfriend. He had friends, and a car. Two younger siblings, divorced parents, hated greasers with a burning passion."

"That's all you know? His _class_? His _status? _His _stereotype? _Do you know what he was like? Do you know who he loved? What he had been through? Tell me Tim, when I die, what will people remember about me? That I was a greaser? That I didn't have any family? That I hung out with the Curtis'? That I had a criminal record? What more is there to me?"

"Of course there's more to you! You are the sweetest, nicest, most innocent person I have ever met!"

"I've been this way for almost a month. I was cruel and tough as nails with no heart for 17 years. That's what people will remember!"

Suddenly Tim seemed angry. "That's not true Dal! How do you think I feel? I will be remembered for murdering someone!"

"Well then you shouldn't have done it!"

Tim's anger was suddenly overcome by a wave of calm so sudden, it was slightly disorienting. "Listen to me Dal. Are you listening? Because I'm about to tell you something that you can't ever tell anyone."

I nodded, a little scared and apprehensive about his tone and what he had said.

"I didn't murder that boy. His name was Bob Sheldon. I wasn't even in Tulsa the day he was murdered."

"Then who framed you?" Tim's lip curled in a sarcastic and bitter smile.

"You did."

"What?" My mind reeled. How could I have framed Tim? And why would I want to? "I thought that you said that we were friends!"

"You were my friend, yes. But the only person you ever considered a friend was Johnny. You thought Johnny was going to make it. You knew that he wouldn't get the chair because he was a hero, but he was assured jail time. And you didn't want him to turn hard. So you came to me, and _begged _me to take the blame. By the time Pony went on trial for murder, they were just checking my story. Pony was never in any danger. The damned Socs told the truth, but you manged to convince the police that the Socs just wanted to get Johnny in trouble, saying that he murdered Bob."

"But Johnny's dead! Why don't you tell the truth now?" I was disgusted with myself for doing what I did to Tim, and my reckless anger was now confused, not sure who it should be angry at. The Socs? Myself? Or maybe just this entire, messed up society.

"Yeah, Johnny is dead. First of all, the police would never believe me. Second, you asked me, the night you were supposed to die, not to turn Johnny in."

"Why did you do what I said! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Because...because you were crying, and I can't see you cry." Tim looked down, ashamed, and I remembered something, and it was like deja vu.

I heard myself saying almost exactly the same words. _"Dally, why did you take that hit for me?" _

_"Aww, shucks kid, I can't stand to see you cry."_

I shook my pounding head to clear it, but for some reason, the conversation thoroughly disturbed me. I realized that, just as Johnny had been my weak spot, I was Tim's.

"Tim, we have got to do something! We can't just...I can't just let you spend the rest of your life in jail!"

Tim shook his head. "Not the rest of my life. I told the court that they were drowning Pony, which is true, so I acted in self defense...or something along those lines. I played the hero, and I'll be out of here in 20 years."

"If you live that long!" I hadn't meant to say it, but Tim just chuckled.

"I'm safer in jail than in the outside world. That's...a different story, one I probably can't ever tell you, but I'm warning you, don't try to 'save' me. Living my life isn't worth my death."

"Tim-"

"Dally, please. _Please _just let me be. It's not worth the time and energy for something that will make me unhappy."

Tim sounded so forlorn, that I instantly forgave him for lying to me. I walked over to him and put my arms around him, feeling small, as I only came up to his chest.

He responded at once and held me close. He was shaking slightly, and I pulled back, to see his eyes shining with tears.

I didn't know why he was close to crying, but it made me cry also, and soon we were hugging eachother fiercely, crying into eachother shirts.

Tim collected himself in only a minute, but he let me sob until I felt sleepy. "I'm sorry I can't be there for you Dal." He paused for a second, as if stealing himself to do something. "Dally, could you do me a favor?"

I nodded, sniffling slightly from the aftermath of the tears. "Anything."

"Well, a few things. I want you to go back to school. You were a real smart kid before you were allowed to drop out. And also...could you talk to my sister and brother? They don't know my sentance yet, and I don't know how they're doing...tell them to maybe visit me in the next twenty years."

I felt bad for Tim. I may not have any real family, but I have seven brother who all love me, and I, in return, love them. Tim was driving on a one way street. His siblings didn't even love him enough to wonder where he was, or visit him in jail.

"Sure Tim, anything."


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow. I thought up the perfect ending for this.**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

My leg jiggled with nerves at the breakfast table on my first day of school. Darry looked over at me sympathetically and put a comforting hand on my knee, forcing me to stop.

I smiled up at him, as I moved my brown eggs around on my plate. Soda had separated the eggs and died the yolks red and the whites green, making a truly disgusting outcome.

"Eat up Dal! First day of school! you should be excited!" Pony grinned at me, and I attempted to grin back. "I'm real sorry Dal, but I wont be in any of your classes or your lunch, but I'll check in with you if I see you in the halls ok? And I'll be showing you to your classes, so don't worry about getting lost."

I nodded noncommittally. I had heard it all before, but I was still worried. Would I be laughed at for taking eighth grade classes when I was almost 18? I wan't stupid, Darry always assured me. I just didn't have the years of schooling the other kids had.

Darry was going to drive us today, because it was my first day and Pony wanted to be there early to show me around a little bit.

I was glad to be a part of the morning rush as Two-Bit, Steve, Darry, Pony, Soda and I piled into the car. We were going to drop Soda and Steve off at work, then the rest at school, and finally Darry would drive to work.

I clutched onto my backpack tightly. It was Soda's old one and it had the initials "SPC" on it, but I still loved it. Soda had told me how he had got it as a present from his parents, and I could tell that it meant a lot to him.

Pony lead me to my first class, and I sat tentatively on the edge of my seat, waiting for the rest of the class to enter. To look busy, I began to unpack my beaten notebooks and textbooks out of Soda's backpack.

"Nice bag." A sneering boy with long black hair spoke. I looked up when I realized he was talking to me.

"Thanks!"

"I was being sarcastic." I smiled. I had no idea what that meant, but I didn't want to show it.

"Whatcha laughing at hood?" I was taken a back by the word. I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing an old shirt of Darry's and some relatively new sneakers.

"I'm not a hood!" I was insulted by the word. This kid sure was full of himself.

"You are if I say you are."

"What do you call yourself then?" I wasn't trying to be rude, and I winced when it came out that way. "Sorry." I muttered, blushing deeply. But this kid _was _ a hood. He wore a leather jacket and I could see the handle of a long switch blade poking out of his pocket. He projected a sort of dangerous aura, and the other kids were avoiding him with timid glances of pity in my direction.

"Watch it Winston." I grinned at the boy, and he looked so shocked, he nearly toppled off the desk that he was maintaining his "cool guy" stance on.

"You'd better stop laughing at me Winston. I could tell my brother to beat you" he swore and I gasped. Some kids behind the hood snickered at my gasp, but after a look from the boy, they shut up.

"Do I know you?"

"Do you- Well of course you fuckin' know me!" I winced at the swear again. "Winston, what the fuck is your problem?"

"Stop saying that."

"What?"

"Stop swearing." He looked at me incredulously.

"No! You don't tell Curley Shepard what to do!" I grinned so widely, it hurt slightly. I got up from my seat and gave Curley a sort of awkward hug. He shoved me so hard, I fell backwards.

"What the fuck man!" He almost sounded scared. "What are you, some sort of fag?"

"Stop swearing." I muttered as I clammered back to my feet. "And whatever a 'fag' is, I'm not one. I'm just glad to see you 'sall."

"You don't _like _me! Why are you glad to see me?"

"I don't like you?"

"Well of course, that's what I said, ain't it? Man, what's your _problem _today?"

"Nothing!" I blushed deeply. I didn't want the whole school to know that I had lost my memory and was stupid now.

"Yeah whatever man. Whatever you've been smoking, don't do it again! What are you smokin' fag weed?"

"I don't smoke."

"Yes you do! Dallas Winston smokes. You and Tim smoke all the time together-" Curley was about to go on, but I cut in.

"Your brothers in jail." I cursed myself for being so rude. Why couldn't I just be tactful for once and tell him nicely?

"Whatever fag, I don't give a fuck."

"Stop swearing!" I said, more indignant than ever. "And of course you care. He's your brother! And he isn't just there for a month or two. I'm really sorry Curley, but he's there for life."

Curley looked shock, but regained his countenance quickly. "I don't care."

"Well I do. And I don't care if you help me, but I'm gonna get him out of there."

"Why do _you _care so much? I'm his brother, and I care less than you."

"I'm his brother too." Curley stood there, open mouthed, looking slightly ridiculous.

At that moment, before he could say anything, the teacher walked in, and instructed us all or sit down in our seats.

"Good morning class. We have a new student today, Dally Winston." I nodded shyly at her and blushed. She was very pretty.

"He's not a new student! He's a dropout that's so stupid he has to go back to eighth grade!" I felt tears rise in my eyes because of the hurtful words, but I didn't let them fall.

"Children." The teacher took a deep breath, and looked at me questionably. I nodded at her, letting he know that it was ok to tell them. "Dally has suffered some amnesia. He will hopefully be moved up to his age group soon, but in the meantime, I will not stand for any bullying or harassment. Y'all understand?"

There were murmured yeses and general muttering of consent.

* * *

_**Curley POV**_

What the kid said, stuck with me. I may not have been very smart, but I knew enough to know that if he was Tim's brother, he was also my brother. Come to think of it, I had no idea what my father had done after he left us. It was all together too possible that he had had Dallas in an affair while he and mom were still together.

I shuddered at the thought. The kid used to intimidate me, now I was scared. I didn't know if I was scared of him or for him, but I sure as hell didn't like being scared.

And the news that Tim was in jail for life...that hit home. My brother may not be my favorite person in the world, but he's the reason why I'm tough. He keeps the state off me and Angel's backs, and he was the leader of my gang, a more important role in my life than my brother.

I swaggered through the hallways with no destination. I knew that I needed to leave. I hated school, and I only showed up for the first period class because the teacher was hot.

As I walked to the front entrance where the car I had hi-jacked was hopefully still waiting, I noticed a boy being pushed into a locker.

Usually I wouldn't care, but this particular act of violence caught my attention because the victim was my supposed "brother."

Honestly, I didn't know whether to join in beating him up or help him. On the one hand, I had my rep to think about. On the other, he did claim to be my brother and he could be useful to get information on Tim.

I compromised by peering around the corner like a gossiping girl as the three boys began to beat him up.

"You know, you're the only greaser we've never uh...initiated. Bob was scared of you, and wouldn't let us gang up on you, but Bobs gone now, and theres no one to save you."

This would be the point in the movie when the hero steps out from their hiding place and makes a long speech before punching the lead Socs in the jaw as the audience lets out a breath they didn't know they were holding.

But I was no hero, and I never claimed to be.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey! I'm reeeeally running low on ideas for this one! Please review and tell possible endings, middles, events, ect.**

**I don't own the Outsiders**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

When I saw the Socs following me, I picked up the pace. The last thing I wanted was to be teased more. I didn't really understand why they didn't like me. Maybe they just didn't like my personality before I lost my memories.

At any rate, I decided to stop running and face my fears. I turned, grinning friendly.

"Hey, greaser!"

"Hey!" I said, not quite interpreting their tones correctly. They had odd, insincere smiles that reminded me of one of those evil characters on tv.

"Greaser, are you sassing us?" They walked towards me, forcing me to back up into a locker.

"No." I said softly, as they formed a semi-circle around me. One pulled out a tool I recognized (I had one in my top drawer for some reason) a switch blade.

"What are you-" But I was cut off by a punch to my ribs. I doubled over, and as my stomach screamed in pain, I saw a boy walk by.

"Curley!" I shouted, but too late. No way he would help me. I submitted myself to the blows, and couldn't help but be reminded of that time in prison.

I gasped at the memory and I screamed, "No, please, don't touch me! Don't touch me there!" I think I screamed some other stuff too, but I don't remember what it was. Whatever it was, it probably saved my life. The Socs looked confused, and for some reason they backed off.

"What the hell?" One said. A boy with shaggy blondish hair sank to his knees, an almost concerned look on his face.

"Hey, you guys leave. I'm gonna take Winston to the nurse. I'll say that I found him this way. They wont ask too many questions. After all, it is Dallas Winston."

"But man, what the hell! Why did he say...that? It sounded like-"

"I know what it sounded like! I'm not eight." The boy knelt down to my level and stared at me calculatingly. When he next spoke, his voice was softer, almost pitying, although I still detected a note of disgust.

"Were you...raped?" I didn't understand the word. I mentally ran through my vocabulary, but I had no recollection of this word. Perhaps it wasn't significant enough, or perhaps, like so many other painful memories, it was buried under years of toughness.

"What?"

"Winston, were you raped? Cuz when we were beating on you...you said some weird stuff. Real weird."

"What does 'raped' mean?" The Soc snorted, and helped my shakily to my feet. I grinned at him, and his face clouded with a strange emotion that I didn't recognize. Somewhere between confusion and relief.

He led me (half leading, half dragging) to the nurses office. I thought it was really nice of him to help me after beating me up. I bet I didn't do that before I had no recollection.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Thats sad that you've beaten everyone I care about, including me, to a pulp, and you still don't know my name."

"I'm sorry." I looked down ashamedly at my feet, my eyes blurring. It seemed no matter where I went, my reputation followed my like an extremely loud shadow.

"Randy." He finally said curtly. We entered the nurses office, and the nurse smiled sweetly at me.

"Hi honey. What can I do for you?" I smiled, almost nervously at her. She was younger than any teacher I had yet see, probably only a few years older than Darry. She had soft blonde hair and china blue eyes, and she reminded me of a doll.

"Well?" She prompted.

"Um." I looked pleadingly at Randy, who rolled his eyes, and told the lie about finding me hurt on the ground.

"Hm." The nurse didn't seemed convinced at the tale.

"It's true." I said, figuring I owed Randy, although for what I wasn't sure. She nodded, and began to patch up my wounds.

"So, Randy, what grade are you in?"

"I'm a...uh, senior in high school."

"Wow." I stared at him reverently for a moment, thinking that I had never met anyone scarier. Darry was probably bigger, but Darry was like a big teddy bear. A teddy bear that could beat up people who messed with his brothers.

"Yeah. Winston, what the fuck is your problem? Is it just cuz you were raped and so you've gone all soft?"

I was astonished at the forwardness of this comment. Unfortunately, I couldn't really think of anything to say, so I settled for, "don't swear."

Randy practically growled and rolled his eyes, leaving the room.

I felt a strange sensation, as if I were being watched. I looked around and just barely spotted a girl sitting in the shadows of the nurses office.

"Hey, have I seen you before?"

"Yeah. We have lunch together. I'm angela." She had a really quiet voice, and she averted her eyes. this wasn't at all how I had imagined Angela Shepard, sister of Tim the law breaker, and Curley, the bully.

Infact, from the little gossip I had heard on the first day, about forty percent of it was about Angela, and none of it was very nice.

"Are you hiding?" For some reason I whispered loudly instead of talking, and she laughed. Her laugh was light, and reminded me of wind chimes.

"Hey, how old are you?" I asked, for some reason feeling more comfortable around her after that laugh.

"17. I know you are too, but you always denied it. Said that you were 21."

"Sorry for lying to you." The wind chimes sounded again.

"No problem. I've heard the story." She rolled her eyes. "I'm a little more intelligent and observant than the average Soc."

I laughed, and then blushed. "I feel bad now. That was mean to Randy."

"He beat you up. I think that you deserve to laugh at him."

"He didn't-"

"Save your excuse. I know that he beat you up, and I have no idea why you are covering for him."

"Randy is nice. He saved me from the Socs. I screamed something, and then he took me here." She nodded pensively, and then stood from the shadows.

I could see that she was shorter than me by a lot. She wore mostly black, like she was at a funeral. Even her nails were painted black. But her face was pale, and devoid of make-up. I thought that was strange because when Pony spoke of her, he always said she wore way too much make-up for his liking.

She caught me staring at her, and I looked away, blushing. "I heard that Curley thinks that you are related to us." She rolled her eyes. "The idiot."

"What? I'm not related to you. I don't think."

"No, don't worry you are. You don't have any dirty Shepard blood running through your veins."

"What? Dirty, I don't know what you-"

"Please. There Tim, who's in jail for a murder he didn't commit, Curley, who's so stupid he actually thinks girls like jerks, and me, the whore."

"What's a whore?"

"A slutty girl." An image came to my mind of a girl in shorts far too short and a shirt too low for my liking. I winced, and I couldn't help wondering how that image got in my head.

"You aren't a-that." She laughed, but not her wind chime laugh. This laugh was bitter and sarcastic.

"Sure I'm not."

"You don't sound like you believe that."

"It's sarcasm." I asked what that was, and the whole subject of her family was dropped, but not forgotten.

* * *

I walked Angela home even though she didn't want me to. I said that I needed to see if Curley was ok. After all, he had looked almost scared today when he saw the Socs beating me up.

My bruises still hurt, but I didn't really care. I had dealt with worse, even in my memory.

Angela's house was as small as the Curtis', but not as well kept. Alcohol bottles littered the front yard and the street in front of the house. A tall chain link fence protected a yard of brambles, which covered the entire house in a gray and brown mass. The house itself looked almost lopsided, and paint of god-knows-what-color was not so much chipping, as fleeing away from the termite ridden shingles.

"Hey, would you rather come to my house? I mean, it's the Curtis' house technically, but I'm sure Darry wont mind."

"No. Thank you so much Dallas."

"Could you call me Dally? Or Dal. But not Dallas...that sounds too scary." She smiled at me.

"Ok. I'll see you tomorrow Dal."

"Yeah, I'll try ta find you at lunch. I mean, if you want me to." For some reason, I blushed, and she smiled and her laugh tinkled.

"Yeah. You do that." I waved goodbye, and began slowly walking home, admiring the late autumn sunset.

I was broken from my reverie by a scream, coming from the direction I had come. I sprinted back to Angela's house, and didn't hesitate at the "No Trespassing" sign.

"Angela!" I yelled. It had to have been her who screamed. I wondered vaguely if she had fallen down the stairs.

"Dally, don't!" She yelled back, followed by another pain filled scream.

Inside the living room, a man stood, fists raised. The man bore a shocking resemblance to Tim. I knew it was her father, and I wasn't quite naive enough to not know what he was doing.

A white hot flash of anger emerged like flipping a switch, and I walked purposely towards him, and punched him with all the force I possessed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok guys. I'm really stressed about homework and stuff, but it's almost christmas break, so I'm gonna finish this story by new years. Or I will try...If you guys haven't heard, I'm writing a series of sorts. One story for each Outsiders gang member. They story lines wont connect, but you get to pick the story lines for Steve, Pony, and Two-Bit! (or at least you get a say) Tell me in a comment or PM me!**

**Thanks! I don't own the Outsiders.**

**Oh, and by the way, I said that Angela was 17 in this by accident...deal with it.**

* * *

**_Dally POV_**

I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that I had just punched someone. My hand hurt, and a heavy weight lay in my stomach.

Angela stared wide-eyed at me. "I-I'm sorry-" I stammered, but she shook her head.

"I should be thanking you."

"What-Why-"

"What was my dad doing to me?" She asked sadly. "Dally, you changed because you lost all of your memories. I used to be...different. I wore too short skirts, I went out with a lot of guys, I lied, cheated, stole, drank myself into the gutter, anything and more that you can imagine."

"What changed you?"

She smiled ruefully. "My dad. He remarried. A real bad woman who also cheats and lies and drinks herself into the gutter." She laughed bitterly. "Just like me. Worthless, the whole lot of us."

"I don't think you're worthless." I mumbled, blushing. She laughed like wind chimes, and continued the story.

"Well, when he remarried, my dad turned violent. He always sucked at being a father. He alway hit Tim and Curley, but then he started hitting me. That's when I changed. He called me a slut, whore, all the names you hear people flip around about me at school."

"I'm sorry Ange." She gave me a weird look, and I realized I had just given her a nickname. "I mean...Angela."

"No, Ange is fine. I just didn't expect it is all." There was a silence that seemed to hang heavier in the air than normal silence. "Well, you should get going. My dad will wake up soon, and I don't want you getting hurt."

"I should stay. Make sure he doesn't hit you again."

"I'll be fine, just go. Please. I'll see you at school tomorrow." She shoved me towards the door, and slammed it behind me.

I began the long walk home.

* * *

Darry ran out to greet me, a panic stricken look on his face. "Hey Darry. What are you doing home so early?"

He brought me into a bear hug. "I'm not home early. You're home late. Where have you been?"

"I was helping Angela Shepard." Darry nodded, then grinned at me. He wasn't as tough on me as he was on Pony. I guess he accepted that I wasn't _really _his brother. "Hey Dal, we have a surprise for you."

I walked curiously in the door, and a split second later, flung myself at the man standing there, squealing like an excited little girl.

"TIM!" I yelled so loudly, Darry winced and Soda and Pony came bounding out of the kitchen to see what was up.

He laughed at pulled me into a hug. I clung to him, not even realizing how much I had missed him until this very moment.

"Hey Dal." He said, cool and collected as ever.

"What happened? Why aren't you in jail?"

"Someone gave the police hard evidence that it was Johnny who killed the Soc."

"Wow." I marveled. "I'm so glad you're back!"

"Glad to be back kid. I only stopped in for a little while, just to see how you're doing. I have to go to my own house also, see my gang."

My smiled slided off my face as I remembered Angela. "Tim, listen..." and I told about her predicament. His face became stonier with every word I said.

"That rat bastard." He growled out, causing Pony to wince in the kitchen door. "Listen, I'm sorry Dal, but I have to go-"

"Yeah, no, go. She needs your help." He hesitated for a second, taking in my appearance. His eyebrows drew together when he noticed my hand.

"What happened to you hand Dal?"

"I uh- well, it sort of just happened, and it was the only way to stop him..." My voice de-crescendoed to a soft murmur.

"Did you hit him Dal?" Tim sounded horrified, and I nodded looking down at my shoes. Tim gave Darry a look. The look said 'you take care of this.' Darry gave an almost imperceptible nod, and Tim turned to leave.

"Hey Dal? Can I talk to you for a second?" Darry's voice was falsely cheery,

"Um, yeah, sure Dare."

He gestured for me to sit on the couch, and I perched on the edge, ready to make a quick get-away.

"Dal, why did you hit Mr. Shepard?" I meant to say sorry, to claim that I didn't mean it, but as I opened my mouth, different words tumbled out as if of their own accord.

"He deserved it. Like Tim said, what a jerk. He hit Ange. I wan't just gonna stand by."

"Dal, I can't believe that I have to tell you this, but you _can't _hit people."

"Why not? You and Soda and Pony do. And Two-Bit and Steve and-"

"Yes but..."

"I'm _older _than Pony and Soda."

"_Yes, _still.."

"Darry, I'm sorry. I really am sorry that I disappointed you and that I embarrassed Ange, but if you are asking me to be sorry for hitting that guy, I'm sorry but I can't do that."

Darry sighed. I knew he wasn't done, but I took advantage of his temporary silence. "I'm gonna go to bed. It's getting late." It wasn't late, only about eight thirty, but I didn't want to be with people.

I didn't go to my room either. I went into Pony's room to find this book that he had been raving about. I didn't really like to read, but I _was _trying to be smarter.

I spotted "The grapes of Wrath" on his desk, and picked it up. When I did, I spotted something else. Something handwritten in Pony's neat figures.

It was long. Must've been hundred of pages. I flipped to a random page and began to read. _"-It's the first big rumble we've had-not countin' the time we whipped the Shepard's outfit.' 'He came by,' Johnny said."_

My heart lurched at the name Johnny. _"Tim Shepard?' Johnny nodded. 'Came to see Dally.' Tim and Dallas had always been buddies._

_"'Did you know you got your name in the paper for being a hero?'"_

_"Johnny almost grinned as he nodded. "Tuff 'Nuff." he managed, and by the way his eyes were glowing, I figured Southern gentlemen had nothing on Johnny Cade."_

I stopped reading the page and turned to a different one. The writing was really good, and I was proud of Pony for writing it.

"'_We won,' Dally panted. 'We beat the Socs. We stomped them-chased them outa our territory.'"_

_Johnny didn't even try to grin at him. 'Useless...fighting's no good...' He was awful white._

_Dally licked his lips nervously. "They're still writing editorials about you in the paper. For being a hero and all.' He was talking too fast and too calmly. "Yeah, they're calling you a hero now an heroizin' all the greasers. We're all proud of you buddy."_

I dropped the paper, and I felt a sob escape my lips as memory broke the dam of my mind and flooded back painfully, leaving destruction behind in it's wake.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for being an evil person to whoever likes this story:(**

**I still don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Darry POV**_

I stood in shocked silence after Dally left me. I would expect it from Pony, yes, Soda, Two-Bit, Steve, but not Dally. Or at least no this Dally.

I sighed after a few minutes, and began to trudge to my room, too tired and lazy to help Pony and Soda with the dishes.

Then I heard it. Everyone did, and I imagined it sounding miles and miles, out of Tulsa, into the cool black silence of the country, cutting through it like a knife.

I ran to the source of the scream: Dally, kneeling on the ground with Pony's manuscript in his hands.

To say the least, I was terrified. Why on earth was Dally screaming? Was he hurt? Pony and Soda appeared with disturbed expressions on their faces, instantly replaced with looks of concern as they realized that it was Dally screaming.

Dally stopped abruptly and stared down, blankly at the manuscript in his hands. "Dal?" Soda asked innocently.

He turned his face to us, and I shuddered.

His warm, dancing blue eyes had a sheen of ice over them, and he glared at us in a very Dallas-like way.

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

_I saw my self at ten year old, sobbing after witnessing the murder of my mother. She wasn't a good mother, but she sure was better than my father had been._

_He had killed her. I knew with the certainty of death that I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled out my heater and stared at it._

_I put it to my head and squeezed my eyes shut. Just then a shout echoed. "Hey, kid!" I glared up at the gang who all had their guns trained on me._

_"You look like a fun little shark." Jet was the term used to describe a "Soc" in New York, "shark" was a greaser type hood.. "What do you guys think? Might be fun to make him a little scared."_

_I trained my gun on them. "Step closer, and you will be sorry." I drawled out cooly. _

_"What are you gonna do, shoot yourself?" So they had seen my moment of weakness. The thought made me angrier._

_I wasn't one to just sit and exchange threats. I pointed the gun at his arm, and pulled the trigger. His friends gathered around him for a second, and then a few began to chase me._

_I huffed as I felt myself collide with someone. A shark. The Shark looked like he was about to bash my brains, but then he saw the Jets chasing me, and him and the rest of his gang began shooting._

_I don't know how many dead bodies there were. I was too scared to check. All I knew is that that had been the second time that day that I had witnessed murder: one time was my mother and another, a group of boys I had never met._

_The lead shark held his hand out to me. "Name's Gunner. Yours?"_

_"Dallas."_

_"Bomb. What do ya say about joining our gang?" I grinned up at him and nodded eagerly. "Good. You're a bomb fighter. Just one thing you have to do first..."_

_He pointed to my wrist, and ordered me to cut. I did, just deep enough so that I passed out for a couple of hours._

_When I woke up, I was surrounded by the toughest greasers in America. And I was proud to call myself one of them. _

I became aware that I was screaming. I cut off my voice and looked down once more at the manuscript. I gasped like a fish out of water, and then looked up at Darry, Soda and Pony.

Their looks of concern turned to fear. I wondered why. "Dal, are you alright?"

"Fine." I said curtly. I stood and tossed the papers back onto Pony's desk. "Sorry for snooping kid. I was looking for a cigarette."

Somehow I recognized the craving, and I actually began to want a cigarette.

"Uh, Dally you don't smoke."

"I did. Wont be too hard to start up old habits." Darry stared at me for a minute, then something seemed to click in his mind.

"Welcome back, Dallas." He said sarcastically. I grinned at him.

"Sorry to disappoint, Darry."

"Dallas..." Pony said slowly. "How do you remember..." He sounded awe filled and scared, like a little kid. He reminded me of how Johnny used to speak to me, and I suddenly remembered why I had suddenly been "cured" of my amnesia.

"I read your theme. Not a lot of it, just flipped to a random page. Listen, I'm gonna go get a beer or something at Buck's. Man, haven't been to that place in ages."

"Dally, you don't have to change back to your old self."

"Thank Darry. People don't often say 'Just hide who you truly are.'"

"This isn't who you truly are Dal. Without your memories and bad experiences, that's who you truly are. You don't have to change Dal. You're already Tuff 'Nuff."

I stared at him for a second, then I addressed Pony. "Johnny said that once, do you remember Pony?"

Pony shot a sidelong glance at Darry, then nodded silently. "So do I. I remember everything about Johnny."

"Dally, don't do anything crazy."

"Don't you see Darry? I remember _everything. _You-none of you- don't know what I've been through."

"Then tell us Dally. Please. We want to hear."

"No. You don't. When I was raped in jail recently? Tim's right. If I were Tuff 'Nuff, I wouldn't have even cared. If I were Tuff 'Nuff, I wouldn't care about anyone. Not you, Pony, Soda, Tim, of Johnny. But I do. I'm not Tuff 'Nuff, and _that _is why I can't tell you why I am the way I am."

* * *

I knocked on Tim's door, ten minutes later. He immediately opened it, and the first thing I noticed was his bruises covering his entire body.

I felt something inside me melt. My anger, maybe, as my voice came out concerned. "Tim! What happened to you?"

"Dad. What are you doing out at this time Dal?"

"Just wondering if you want to get a beer." I said innocently.

"Thanks, but you're not quite old enough to drink."

"And..."

"And that's not ok." Tim looked at me in concern.

"Tim, I remember everything. I read something Pony wrote, about Johnny, and I remember now, so let's go drown our sorrows before I take them out on someone who doesn't deserve it."

"You-"

"Yes, my memories are back." Tim looked at me kind of strangely.

"I'm sorry." I thought at that moment that maybe Tim was the only one who actually understood my situation. He hadn't exactly had the easiest life either. He had never concealed from me how pleased he was that my memories were gone. I suppose he wished for that every night, and his wish had come true for me.

I can't remember ever wishing it, but I do miss my old innocence.

"So..." Tim starts awkwardly when we sit on tall bar stools at Bucks. "You-you're back." He stammered. I nodded as I sipped the foam off of my beer on tap. "You happy?"

"Far from it. I suppose I never was happy though, so nothing's really changed." Tim winced at this and I rolled my eyes.

"You know Dal, you could choose to be like how you were after you lost your memories. You aren't the only one whos had hard times, other people just don't run away from their fears."

"You calling me a wimp?"

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Watch it Shepard. I might just beat you up."

"You and my dad both." This stopped the conversation and I looked guiltily at him. We drank in a tense silence for about thirty seconds, then I broke it, words tumbling out of my mouth in a rush.

"I'm sorry Tim. I'm sorry about your dad, Ange, Curley. I'm sorry that I'm stupid and that you don't like how I am."

"That's just not true Dally. You aren't stupid, and I love you like a brother no matter what. I just...I wish that you could stay happy, if only for a little longer. If you were happy for longer, maybe you could learn to be happy forever. You always spoke about Dally and Dallas like different people. I think you just couldn't believe that you had done all of the questionable things you had done. Well, news flash. They're the same person. You didn't become Dally. you always _were _Dally. You just let that part of you show, and now you're disappointed because you think that Dallas is here to stay. But really, you are both Dally and Dallas. You can choose who you want to be."

And with that, he stood, placing some money on the counter, and walked out of the store, not even tipsy after his three beers.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! Sorry, I had no internet for a while so I couldn't update. But the good news is that I got an ipad type thing for christmas, so now I can update ALOT more often:))))))) SOOOO happy!**

**Happy holidays!**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

I thought a lot about what Tim said. I got to thinking that maybe I didn't have to be tough. Not too tough, anyway.

It was apparent to me that I needed a change, a big one. I didn't have to be exactly like old Dallas Winston, toughest, meanest hood from Tulsa to New York, but I couldn't be little, innocent, cowering Dally either.

At any rate, I needed to get back to Darry and the rest of my brothers. I had an empty feeling inside of me. Actually, I had always had this feeling-since Johnny's death-but now I could identify it.

Memories of Johnny surfaced. How he looked when he was being tuff, how he looked after those socs beat on him, the way his eyes would crinkle when he was really smiling. Everything. And I missed the darkness. People associate dark with pain, but when I was in the dark, I was so much happier.

When I could cry I was so much happier. I had no excuse now. I wanted to sob to the high heavens, curse god for taking Johnny away from me. This boy that had been the only thing to keep me alive for years. The boy that, until a few hours ago, I couldn't remember.

I barged in through the door to find the entire gang sitting agitatedly in the living room. "Dally!" Darry cried. He moved as if to hug me, but thought better of it. "Are you ok man? We've been worried."

I chuckled. When I had had no memory, Darry never called me man. I wasn't sure yet if I liked it or not.

"Yeah, I'm fine Dare. I just got a drink with Tim, he talked to me." Darry looked like he wasn't sure whether to yell at me for drinking or show relief that I was ok.

He settled for a noise somewhere between an indignant snort and a sigh. "Well, I guess thats good. Dal, we wanted to talk with you..."

I raised one eyebrow, and Two-Bit chuckled. He walked over to me and slung an arm across my shoulders. I pushed him away playfully, and he grinned widely.

I hadn't really had a chance to talk to Two-Bit while I had no memory, but now I knew why we were friends; he was light and took everything at the drop of a hat. The polar opposite of me.

"So, wanna go to a party with me and Stevie here?"

"No." Two-Bit pouted mockingly at my quick answer. On instinct, I began to worry if I had hurt his feelings. Than I wondered if I should care. "Sorry Two-Bit, but I just came back from a little bit of a party. And I think I might lie low tonight."

Two-Bit and everyone else in the room looked astounded. "I thought you got your memories back?"

I nodded in confirmation, and winces as another memory of Johnny was brought to my attention. "Yeah, I remember everything. Why?"

"Well..." Two-Bit sounded as though he were choosing his words carefully, and he eyed my hand wearily, perhaps worried I might strike him. I shuddered internally at the thought, then reprimanded myself for being such a wimp. "Well, I thought that once you had your memory back you might...you know, be like old Dallas again."

I felt an unreasonable anger and blinked in surprise, barely able to contain myself from strangling Two-Bit. _What is your problem?_ I asked myself.

"Well," I began, trying to keep my voice even. "I wont be exactly the same Two. It's not like the last two weeks never happened."

Two-Bit looked crestfallen, and I felt hurt. It was apparent that Two-Bit at least had not liked me too much when I was all innocent.

Some of this hurt must have shown on my face because Darry shot Two-Bit a look and said, "Listen, Two-Bit, how about you and Stevie go out. Soda, Pony and I can handle this. Unless either of you want to go with them." He said, asking the question to Soda and Pony.

To their credit, they both shook their head with certainty. Darry smiled faintly, and gestured for me to sit as Steve and Two-Bit left.

I complied, setting myself on the edge of the couch, ready to make a quick escape if necessary.

"So, Dal, how're you doing?"

"Fine." I answered curtly. Hadn't I already been through this?

"Dally, I mean about...Johnny." Darry said finally, dropping all pretense. I didn't answer immediately.

How did I feel about Johnny? I felt like I was standing on ice a centimeter thick. Ice that, if cracked would drop me to my death. I felt like my entire life was meaningless, like my life was only significant as long as I lived fore something.

But I couldn't say that to Darry...could I? "I uh...I don't-can't-" Suddenly I felt too hot, too confined, and overwhelmed. I jumped up and Darry flinched. "I'm sorry Darry. I just need some air."

I ran outside and breathed deeply, not even noticing the tears streaming down my face until I heard the laughing.

"Look here boys! Well, speak of the devil! Winston, we were just talking about you. Talking about how we don't believe your story. We don't believe that you lost your memory. We are gonna...lets say...test you."

They pushed a woman forward. A woman with dark hair, and large, puppy dog eyes...

My mind went into overdrive.

_"Johnny why do you stay with your parents?" It was Christmas Eve and Johnny's dad had literally kicked him out of the house. Johnny was nursing his wounds with a grimace, while I watched._

_"Gotta protect my mother."_

_"Why? Man, if she loved you like a real mother should, she would have left your dad a long time ago." Johnny seemed to consider this for a moment._

_"She's not strong enough."_

_"Hell, it ain't that hard." I dismissed with a shrug._

_"Really? I know I wouldn't be strong enough."_

_"Sure you would Johnnycakes."_

_"No." Johnny said, shaking his head. "i wouldn't. And my mother isn't strong enough either. Sure, she is...not the nicest person I know. Not like Mrs. Curtis was, but she needs me to protect her. It's all I'm strong enough to do."_

I remember thinking that it was strange that Johnny was strong enough to take beating after beating for a woman that didn't really love him, but was not strong enough to simply run away to a friends house.

Now I think I know.

As the soc raised his fist to punch the woman, I did what Johnny would have done, and stepped in front of the blow.


	16. Chapter 16

**I got some great reviews for this chapter:) Thank you to all of you who continually review, follow, and favorite for this story. I'm glad you like it, and there will be a story that I think all of you AU people will like called "Aid for the Helpless." It will be the Johnny story. Enjoy!**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Dally POV**_

The fist hit me with the force of a rampaging bull. I heard something crack, and felt pain, but wasn't sure if the crack was the mans hands or my face.

"So, you do have your memories. You sneaky little bastard." I groaned as they pummeled me to the ground.

"Run!" I choked out to Johnny's mother. She gave me one look of pity, then took off to the empty lot where her son so liked to sleep.

I felt a momentary sense of satisfaction, then something harder than a fist hit me, and I cried out. "Darry!"

I yelled, but there was little hope of him finding me before they beat the life out of me.

"Please. Please stop!" I screamed at the men surrounding me, but they just laughed.

"You little liar! No one would have misses you if you died! You may be 'tough Dallas Winston' but nobody like you. They are scared of you, and that is why they pretend to respect you! You slime!"

"No. I'm not tough, please." I began to whimper loudly, and I receded into my thoughts, each blow bringing me jarringly back to the present.

I thought about Johnny's last words to me. "Tuff 'Nuff." I thought about what Tim said about being Tuff, and how I could choose how 'Tuff' I wanted to me.

And right then, I wanted to hurt those people. The people that taunted me, that hit me, that thought they were better than me.

I began to get up, every inch of my body screaming in protest. I stood shakily on my feet and slapped the head Soc with as much force as I could manage (which probably wasn't even that much.)

"You-" The soc sputtered. I felt triumph, just for a second, and then it faltered when I recognized the tool in his hand.

A gun.

"No, please, don't kill me." I fell to my knees before him, pleading for my life.

"You killed my family." He said, sounding on the brink of tears. "My sister, my father, you killed them. Do you even know my sisters name?"

"No, I didn't kill-" But then a memory surged to the fore lines of my mind, and I saw a girl and her father, dead, while the sun set on the New York City skyline, burning the blood a shimmering orange.

I had killed someone. Two people. If I concentrated, who knew how many people I could remember killing.

"Do you know her name?! If you know her name, I'll let you live." The mans voice was shaky.

I held up my hands, my thoughts reeling. I pressed my forehead to the gun. "I'm sorry. Please, take my life if it makes you feel better. I deserve it."

The mans eyes flashed. "Stand up and take it like a man."

I stood in front of the gun, my hands still raised, and closed my eyes.

"No. Open your eyes. I want to kill you in cold blood, just like you did my family." I obliged, liking this option less, but knowing that in a couple of seconds, it wouldn't matter anyway.

"Dally!" I heard my name being called, but I didn't care. I deserved this, deserved death. I didn't want to die. It wasn't a suicde. It was a sacrifice. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

"DALLY!" Someone screamed my name louder. They were so close I could hear their footsteps.

"Do it. For your family. Avenge their death." I whispered to the man. He cocked the gun, but instead of pointing it at my head, which would have killed me for certain, he pointed it to my rib cage.

"I hope you die in pain." The soc hissed.

Then, all I heard was the sound of a gun, and then pain. I was vaguely aware of the socs running foootsteps, and then voices.

Voices that I recognized. I opened my eyes to find Darry, Pony, Soda, and Tim kneeling next to me.

"Dally." Darry's voice was thick, as if he were holding back tears. My eyes frantically searched for his face, then fixed on it. I tried for a smile, and a hot crimson liquid poured from my mouth.

"Brothers." I managed to say, although I wasn't even sure if they could understand me. Darry let out a sob and held my hand tightly.

"You're gonna be ok." Tim said shakily. "You have to be ok. Don't worry. We will get those stinking socs."

"Fighting...no good." I searched for Pony and gave him a half smile. "I'm not gonna say stay gold."

Pony nodded, tears streming down his face. "Ok. Dont say anything, help is on the way."

"No." For some reason, it was vitally important that they understand the message that I was trying to get across. "You are tuff 'nuff. Don't try..."

The pain was too much. My ribcage was shattered, along with my heart. I knew I was dying.

"I love you." Was all I managed.

In my last moments of life, I reflected on how lucky I was. Not too many people had their last words as "I love you" and I wanted it to stay that way.

My brothers sobbing seemed miles away, in a different universe. I thought about Johnny, and I was happy that now, because I was changed, maybe I could tell him what he meant to me.

Maybe I would have the nerve to say that he was like a brother to me, and that I had missed him.

Maybe. I closed my eyes, and took a deep, shuddering breath.

Than I felt myself relax, and I died.


	17. Chapter 17

**Probably the last, or VERY close to the last chapter. I'm sorry for your loss. He will be missed:(**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

* * *

_**Darry POV**_

Dally wasn't dead. I could tell this from the shallow rise and fall of his chest, gasping for his last breaths.

I don't think he could hear us. Soda was sobbing, Pony was talking quietly to Dally, and Tim was shouting at him to stay with him. I was speechless.

Dally, the sweetest, most deserving person I had ever met, was fading, almost lost to the world. And all I could think is that it was my fault. I had asked him about Johnny, then he had ran and the Socs had gotten him. Why was everything my fault?

"I love you." Dally said softly, and that's when the tears came. I wrapped his small, deft hands in my boxing glove sized palms, and bent over, my forehead touching his hands.

His fingers were cold, the blood had stopped pumping in them to compensate for the gaping wound in his ribs.

"I love you too Dal." I whispered into our clasped hands.

I was glad that I got to say that. Dally didn't have much time, and I had never said that to him, though it had always been true. I loved all of the gang like family, and over the past few weeks, Dally had become closer to me than either of my brothers.

He took a last shuddering breath. When he exhaled for the last time, his breath shone foggy white in the air, and I imagined his soul leaving his body, going to rejoice in heaven with Johnny.

But I wouldn't let go of his hands until someone forced him and me apart.

I had never felt so much pain, and I hoped to never feel anymore.

Of course, this wasn't possible.

* * *

_**Tim POV**_

I felt an unfamiliar emotion wash over me, something that I hadn't felt in about a month, since the last time Winston "died." Who was I kidding? His name was Dally-is Dally. And I'm not doing anyone any favors by pretending that his death doesn't affect me.

I walked over to the body. I had always thought that a body was just an empty shell, a relic of what had been. I was wrong.

Dally didn't look dead. His eyes were closed, like he was just sleeping. I knew that underneath the eyelids, his eyes wouldn't be their clear, beautiful blue anymore. They would be cold and clouded, oblivious.

I let out a sob, and joined Darry beside him. Pony and Soda were crying together a few feet away, probably scared of the body.

Darry held bother of his hands. I stroked his white blond hair, which was somehow caked with blood. I began talking nonsense to Dally, telling him how much he meant to me, how I didn't know how I would go on with out him.

When the ambulance arrived, Darry stepped sadly away from the body asthe paramedics hurried to load it. I didn't move.

I was tempted to look under his closed lids, just to see what his eyes looked like.

"Sir? Sir." the paramedic sounded angry. Dally was just another chore for him to do.

"Tim." Darry called my name softly, but I ignored him. I touched Dally's cold cheek, and remembered how it looked when lively tears were streaming down it. I remembered how it felt to brush them away, how the blue eyes looked, rimmed in red.

"Tim, you have to let them take him away." I shook my head again, and then I felt a hand start to pull me away.

I think I screamed, but it's all kind of hazy. I know that I struggled towards Dally as they pulled him into the ambulance.

A paramedic walked over to Darry and me. "Name of the victim?" He asked unconcernedly.

I became coherent at this point and I yelled into the open air, "Dallas Winston."

I began to chant his name, every variation of it. Dallas Winston, Dally, Dal, Winston.

Suddenly, I felt trapped. I had to get out of there. "Tim!" Darry called after me, but I kept running.

I thought about how sad, how very sad the entire situation was. Johnny, the anchor that tied DAlly to the earth was dead, so Dally had to kill himself. Really, it wasn't a choice, it was almost a mandate.

Then he didn't die. Either a blessing, or the cruel hand of fate had let him live. But not for long. Fate had let him _really _live. Live a life halfway decent for a human, full of love an friends.

And Dally was the only thing that anchored me to this earth. I thanked god that this train could end with my death, but I needed to be quick, before I hurt anyone else.

Life is just a circle. If history isn;t studied, it is bound to repeat itself. Well, I was never much for school. _I am gonna die like Dally wanted to. _I thought.

_Dally was dead. Emotion swelled in my throat. I had seen him die. I squeezed the tears out of my eyes when I closed my eyes. I hurriedly wiped them away. I didn't need some Soc spreading rumors that Tim Shepard isn't tough._

_I walked into the store, and pointed the gun at the clerks head. "Give me the money." My voice was low and dangerous, and I revelled in the power that I felt with the gun. If this thing were loaded, I could kill this guy in a second._

_I could kill anyone. Hell, it's got to be better than life. I could even kill myself. But no...it wasn't loaded. Than a grin spread over my lips, I grabbed what money the clerk had procured and ran to the pay phone outside._

_I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice as I explained to Darry my new revelation._

_I made sure the clerk called the cops, then started sprinting towards the east side of town._

_I had never run faster. I had not cheated death like Pony's story characters always did, I would cheat life._

_I grinned widely and pushed on running through the exhaustion I felt. The sound of sirens egged me on._

_I saw 5 figures running towards me. They stopped as the cops surrounded me, pulling out their guns. I grinned. I pulled out my own gun._

_There is nothing more dangerous than a man who has nothing to lose. If that gun had been loaded, I would have shot all of them dead before one bullet reached me. I hated those men, those people who had made my life a living hell._

_But no more. If there was hell in heaven and earth, at least I could be with Johnny._

_I felt something hit me in the back of the head, then I felt as though my skull were splitting open. Thn the ground rushed up towards me, and I welcomed death._


End file.
